


Operation Hopeful

by storywriter55



Series: Milestones [14]
Category: White Collar (TV 2009)
Genre: Family, Gen, Kidnapping, old grudges
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30059748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storywriter55/pseuds/storywriter55
Summary: An ennemy from Neal's past reappears leaving the Caffrey family devastated. Part of the 'Milestones' series (6.10 years). Originally titled 'A Little Hope Goes a Long Way'
Relationships: Neal Caffrey & Matthew Keller, Neal Caffrey & Peter Burke, Neal Caffrey/Sara Ellis
Series: Milestones [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/80614
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

_Florence, Italy_

_May 2003_

_'Whoa, what a rush!' Matthew Keller yelped as he swept victorious into the apartment he shared with his partner in crime._

_Neal Caffrey followed close behind, his breathing shallow, his face twisted in anger._

_‘That was totally unnecessary' he mumbled as he threw his gear onto the couch._

_Keller shrugged. ‘What? He was just some insignificant security guard.’_

_'He could be dead, Keller! We just left him there, bleeding' Neal said, visibly distressed._

_Matthew Keller held up the bag containing the loot they’d just lifted from the Uffizi Gallery. ‘So what? We got what we came for!’_

_Neal’s anger continued to build, his teeth gritted as he spoke. ‘It's not worth killing someone over’ he argued. ‘Nothing is.’_

_'You're such a fucking bleeding heart, Caffrey!’_

_Neal was having none of it. This was just one more example of how different the two men were and where the line was drawn in the sand. For each of them._

_'He's somebody's son, maybe somebody's husband or father...' Neal continued as he made his way to his room._

_Keller could hear him moving around in there. ‘You're kidding me, right?'_

_Within minutes, Neal reappeared with a carry-on bag thrown over his shoulder._

_'Keep it!' he shouted at Keller, as he pointed to the jewelry they had just stolen. ‘Keep it all, I don’t give a shit. I'm done with this. I didn't sign up for guns – I told you that. You're on your own.’_

_Matthew Keller shook his head in desperation. ‘Whatever, Caffrey… you’re such a goddamn wuss. Go! I don't care!’_

_And just like that Neal was out the door, never bothering to look back._

WCWCWC

'Awww, not again!’ Sara said as she sat up in bed.

Neal threw his hand across her body, holding her back. ‘It’s okay, I'll get him’ he mumbled as his feet hit the cold bedroom floor.

He walked the few steps across the hall to the baby's room to find Liam standing in his crib, wailing, with his arms outstretched.

'What's the matter, baby? Is it your teeth again?' Neal asked as he lifted him out of his crib and pulled him to his chest.

Liam grabbed for his father’s neck, making him squirm in pain and proceeded to shove his head in the crook between Neal's neck and shoulder as the intensity of his wails began to slowly decrease. Neal could feel his son’s hot cheek against his cool neck and he pressed him closer to him as he tried to soothe him.

'Bobo, Liam?' he asked soothingly.

‘Bobo… bobo' the baby repeated through his muffled cries.

With Liam cradled in his arms, Neal stepped into the bathroom, wincing as the harsh light flooded the room.

‘Sara, where's the teething gel?' he asked as he began to root through the medicine cabinet.

'It's right on the second shelf’ she replied, half asleep. 'And there's a teething ring in the freezer.’

At twenty months, Liam was getting the last of his teeth, the second molars. The blunt teeth were coming in slowly and painfully, pushing through his tender gums and he’d been having trouble sleeping the last couple of nights, waking his parents with cries of pain.

Neal made his way down to the kitchen, making a detour to grab a t-shirt from the pile of clothes in the hamper in the hallway. It was January and the house felt downright frigid in the dead of night. He turned on the light over the stove, glancing at the time as he made his way to the refrigerator. 2:45; it was going to be a short night and he had to be at his desk by eight o'clock. The loud cries slowly faded to soft moans as he applied some teething gel on the sore spot, Liam biting down insistently on his dad’s fingers.

They moved to the couch, where Neal settled him on his knees and handed him the ice cold teething ring, watching as he latched on to it, already accustomed to the nightly routine. Liam looked up, his face red and tear streaked and let his head drop on Neal's chest as he began to suckle greedily on the cool ice. Neal grabbed the blanket that was lying nearby and covered them both as he held his infant son close to him, letting his head drop on the back of the couch with a loud sigh.

The nighty interruptions had been going on for close to a week, seriously curtailing their sleep and Neal and Sara had been taking turns getting up in the night and suffering the consequences at the office the next day. Luckily, the weekend was right around the corner; with any luck they would be able to catch up on their sleep.

Neal’s mind wandered to what was on his agenda the next day. As in-house art authenticator at Finch and Johns, he was tasked with authenticating any and all recovered items for the large insurance company, a job he’d been thoroughly enjoying.It afforded him the excitement of being in close proximity to invaluable objects and works of art without having to do anything illegal to get his hands on them. It was the perfect job really - at least for the moment. His employer was open to him taking time off to help Peter with the odd case at White Collar and he still had time left over to work in his in-home studio which had recently been relocated to the basement following Liam’s birth.

Who was it who’d said two kids were no more trouble than one? Although six-year-old Hope had welcomed her baby brother with open arms, lately she seemed to be resenting the extra attention he was getting from their mom and dad and she’d begun to act out in order to get her fair share of the limited time her parents had for the two of them. This new attitude was really ticking Neal off, especially since he spent as much time with her, if not more, than he did with his son. He was the designated parent at all her soccer games and practices and he spent countless hours with her in his studio, indulging her interests in all things artistic. Having a second child had been a game changer, requiring compromise and juggling of schedules and Hope wasn’t making it any easier.

And with that random thought, Neal felt his body relax as he drifted off to sleep.

WCWCWC

Sara woke to find Neal's side of the bed empty and cold and she walked over to the next room to wake her daughter up for school. By the time the two of them made it down for breakfast, it was almost seven o'clock and they found the men flopped out on the couch, dead to the world.

‘Neal?’ she said softly as she walked over to the couch to rouse him. 'It's almost seven.’

‘What? Seriously? I never made it back to bed?, he whined, disappointed.

The sound of his voice woke Liam who looked up at his mom, putting his arms out for her as he gurgled happily.

'Momma' he said with a smile.

'Oh, now you're all smiles' Neal groused under his breath.

‘You need to go potty sweetie?’ Sara asked as she slipped her hand inside his diaper and noticed it was dry.

‘Potty!' he repeated as he wriggled out of her grasp and began to toddle towards the bathroom at the front of the house.

'Hope, can you sit him on the potty?' asked Sara, noticing Hope lurking nearby.

'Why is it _my_ job to put him on the potty?’ came the snarky reply.

‘Because I’m asking you to’ Sara said, giving her 'the' look that left no room for negotiation.

Neal struggled to get up from the very uncomfortable position he’d been sleeping in, holding onto his wife’s arm as he stretched his back.

‘It’s your turn tonight' he said.

And it almost sounded like a threat.

WCWCWC

Friday night was synonymous with dinner out for the Caffrey clan. After a long week of work, they enjoyed escaping the routine and sitting together to share a meal that no one had to prepare. Of course, as Liam grew and became more and more mobile, it was important to stick to family friendly restaurants, certainly not the type of places Neal and Sara had frequented before they’d had kids.

Tonight, they sat in front of chicken fingers and fries, trying to make the best of it.

‘Look Liam!’ Hope called out as she pointed.

He turned his head as she picked fries off his plate, feeling smug about having tricked him.

Neal spoke up, annoyed. ‘Hope, stop it! You have your own fries' he said for the third time.

'What is your problem anyway?' added Sara, turning to glare at her daughter. ‘He's your baby brother, he didn't do anything to you.’

Hope stuck out her tongue, eyes glaring back. ‘It’s always _'Liam this and Liam that'_ she complained. ‘He always gets everything and I get nothing' she added, crossing her arms against her chest in an act of defiance.

Sara and Neal exchanged exasperated looks.

‘That's not true’ Neal said, as patiently as he could manage. ‘I'm taking you to the dome for your soccer practice tomorrow morning and we spent all evening yesterday in my studio. So don’t tell me it’s all about Liam.’

‘But he's always crying and wanting to be picked up' she argued.

‘Liam isn’t even two yet and you're almost seven years old. Do you really want to be picked up?' Neal teased as he reached out to grab her.

‘No...' she giggled, pretending to fight him off.

‘Because that can be arranged’ he said as he lifted her up and pulled her up against his chest like a newborn.

‘Daddy!’ she laughed as he mercilessly tickled her.

Sara watched the scene unfold as a smile lit up her face. Neal had such an amazing way with the kids, always knowing the right thing to say or do to keep the peace, especially lately, since Hope had begun to act up. Despite her stubborn streak, she had always been a pretty easygoing kid. She was as smart as a whip, had a wicked sense of humour and despite her tendency to be pig-headed, she’d inherited her dad’s gentle, loving nature. But lately, she’d been petty and jealous whenever either one of her parents paid more attention to her little brother than to her. Typical sibling rivalry, Sara reflected as she shook her head in dismay.

WCWCWC

Saturday rolled around and almost as if he knew it was a down day, Liam slept through the night to everyone's relief and amazement. Neal got up and began to make his way down to the kitchen while Sara lounged in bed. Saturday brunch was his ‘thing’, usually consisting of pancakes and bacon and eggs or whatever Hope had requested before bed the night before. He popped his head into her room, spying her reading a book as she often did when she woke up early in the morning.

'You want to give me a hand with the pancakes?' he asked.

'Okay' she replied, following him down the stairs.

‘Daddy, can we put blueberries in them?' she asked as her foot hit the first floor landing.

'Sure, if you want to' he replied as he ruffled her hair.

'Daddy...' she complained.

‘What? You're too big for me to ruffle your hair now? Next thing you know, you'll want me to stop grabbing your nose’ he said as he pulled on her nose.

‘No…’ she answered, laughing.

Sara made an appearance carrying a smiling Liam as the wonderful aroma of bacon and pancakes wafted up the stairs.

‘Poppa!' he squealed, wriggling out of his mom’s arms and straight towards his dad.

'Hey buddy' Neal said in greeting as he scooped him up. 'You hungry for the pancakes Hope made?’

They’d just settled around the kitchen table when Neal’s cell phone chirped on the kitchen counter - no doubt Peter reminding him about their lunch date. He reached for it and glanced nonchalantly at the screen as everyone else continued to chit chat about plans for the day ahead.

Neal frowned at the text message emanating from an unknown number. _‘Your daughter sure loves fries'_ it read.

He re-read the text and puzzled, he dialled the incoming number only to find it was out of order. Was this someone’s idea of a practical joke or had someone been spying on them at dinner the night before?

‘What's the matter?' Sara asked, seeing the strange look on his face.

'Nothing, just a weird text...' he replied as he set aside his phone.

‘So’ he said, turning to look at Hope. ‘You ready for soccer practice?’

She nodded enthusiastically, no sign of the spiteful, jealous big sister she’d been the night before.

‘Daddy, can we go for ice cream afterwards?’ she asked, her mouth full of pancake.

He smiled. ‘We’ll see’ he said. ‘And don’t talk with your mouth full!’

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

'Daddy, what _is_ this?' asked Hope as she held up the strange contraption.

Neal’s eyes grew in surprise as he stared at the monitoring anklet in her hand. Although it had been a permanent fixture in his life for over four years, he hadn’t thought of it - let alone laid eyes on it in years and he'd all but forgotten he’d stuck it in the back of his closet for safekeeping.

'What are you doing with _that_?' he asked, taking if from her hand and examining it closely.

'I found it on the floor in your closet' she replied innocently.

Neal felt his throat constrict at the sight of it. He’d always known his kids would someday find out about his sordid past although he’d imagined having the ‘talk’ with them once they were full grown adults. He watched Hope’s eyes staring back at him, waiting for an answer. She was inquisitive at the best of times and smart and pushy just like her mom. His crimes were a matter of public record and someday, she and Liam would inevitably find out about his sordid past. Was there any point in not addressing the issue head on?

And yet, instead of answering, he deflected. ‘And you were in our closet because...'

'Mommy sent me to get some shoes for her and I found it' she replied matter of factly.

Neal made his way to the bed, anklet in hand, and Hope took a seat beside him as she studied her dad's face. He gave her a sideways glance, noticing the look of doggone determination in her eyes. Maybe it was best to just bite the bullet and give her a child-friendly version of what had transpired all those years ago.

'Well, a long time ago, before you were born… I had to wear this on my ankle' he explained, pausing to see her reaction.

She frowned. ‘Why?’ she asked.

He took a deep breath. Having to share the least illuminating part of his life with his offspring was not something he'd been looking forward to doing.

'Well, when I was younger, I did something very stupid. I copied some bank bonds and pretended they were real' he said quietly.

'What are bank bonds?' she asked, as always curious.

'They're sort of like money. People usually buy them to save for a rainy day' he replied.

'Why did you copy them?' she asked, prodding him to continue.

‘Because… it seemed like fun at the time and I could make some money by fooling people into thinking they were real' Neal said, avoiding her eyes.

Hope just looked up at her dad, confused.

He soldiered on, in for a penny, in for a pound. ‘But… copying bonds is illegal and I got caught.’

He forced himself to look straight into his daughter's eyes to emphasize what he was saying.

‘So what happened?’ she asked, eyes bright and curious.

Neal felt his heart thumping in his chest. His relationship with his daughter had always been based on trust and he wasn’t about to lie to her. And yet he hesitated, worried that his admission might upset the fragile balance of their relationship.

‘Well… I was arrested and I had to go to jail.’

'You went to jail?' she repeated, incredulous.

He nodded and sighed. ‘Yeah. That's how I met Uncle Peter. He worked for the FBI and he caught me and he put me in jail.’

Hope stared back in silence, totally captivated by what she was hearing. This was her Uncle Peter, her godfather and her dad's best friend and it was strange to imagine that their relationship could ever have been anything but that of close friends.

Neal let out a loud exhale. ‘But because I knew a lot about art and forgeries, he let me out to help him catch bad guys instead of leaving me in jail. So that’s what I did… I worked with him at the FBI, helping him catch bad guys and putting _them_ in jail.’

‘But why did you have to wear this?’ she asked, pointing to the anklet.

‘Because… when you do something wrong, you have to pay for it so even though I wasn’t in jail any more, there were still consequences for what I’d done. My punishment was to stay close to Grandma June's house and I couldn't go wherever I wanted. This tracker… this is how Uncle Peter knew if I was… doing what I was supposed to. I wore it around my ankle and that way, he always knew where I was… and he could make sure I didn’t get into any more trouble’ he added with a heavy sigh.

She was staring back, her eyes wide and he could tell she was computing this new information and trying to make sense of it.

'So, a tracker can tell somebody where you are?' she said - not the question he’d expected her to ask.

'Yeah, I wore the tracker on me all the time and Uncle Peter had a monitor that told him where I was. And that way, I couldn't go places I wasn’t supposed to go or do things I wasn't supposed to do because he could always find me' Neal explained.

'Did it hurt?' asked Hope, suddenly concerned.

Neal chuckled. ‘No, it just went around my ankle like a bracelet around your wrist.’

Hope took the anklet from his hand and placed it around her ankle. It hung loosely and she took a few steps dragging it along as she went.

'You know, Hope, I'm not proud of what I did back then but I stopped and now I'm happy to do a job that helps catch people who do bad things' he said, finally.

She dragged her foot along as she made her way back to him, lacing her arms around his neck. ‘Me too, Daddy!’

WCWCWC

'So, another season of soccer begins' said Jeff Mason as he sidled up to Neal by the indoor soccer field.

'Hey Jeff! Yeah, used to be soccer was just for summertime but nowadays...' Neal pointed to the dome they were in.

The Masons and Caffreys had struck up a friendship from the day Neal and Sara had moved into the neighbourhood six years earlier. Hope and Olivia Mason had become best friends and the couples had taken to exchanging babysitting and other favours, helping each other out whenever they could. Except for their ongoing rivalry when it came to the annual Christmas decorating contest, Neal and Jeff were pretty tight and with both their girls competing on the same soccer team, they’d taken to hanging around at games and practices.

'Hope trying out for a striker position again this year?' Jeff asked.

‘Yeah. How about Olivia? Goalie again?'

Jeff nodded. ‘Why anyone would want to stand in front of a goal and watch someone come at them with a speeding ball is beyond me but...'

Neal chuckled. He was learning to adapt to suburban life, the easygoing predictability of it all, the warm fuzzies he felt every time he walked into their modest little house, the joy of sharing it all with Sara. Most of all, he enjoyed watching his children grow and develop into a couple of amazing young people. Of course, the verdict was still out on Liam but he was showing signs of having a laid back, easygoing personality despite the drama of the last week. Hope, on the other hand, although mostly cooperative, was fiery and headstrong just like her mom and at a very young age, she had begun to show a fierce temperament.

He watched as she made a run up the pitch on the left side, dodging a couple of the girls from the opposing team and turning slightly to get her right foot on the ball as she let it rip right by her best friend who was flying through the air in an attempt to block the shot.

'Whoa!' Neal shouted as his daughter did a happy dance on the field.

‘Looks like she hasn’t lost her touch’ commented Jeff Mason as Neal beamed with pride.

WCWCWC

Saturdays were usually spent running errands and getting the kids to and from play dates but as much as possible Neal and Sara tried to spend some time with Peter and Elizabeth, either one on one or as a foursome. Neal had arranged to meet Peter for lunch so they could catch up and he strolled into their neighbourhood breakfast joint, spotting Peter in a booth by the back.

‘Sorry I’m late’ he said as he slid across from him. ‘Hope's soccer practice went a bit over and I had to drop her off at home before coming over.’

Peter smiled at the sight of his best friend in his suburban duds. He never got enough of 'domestic Neal’, so different from the suave, debonair Neal Caffrey he’d met all those years ago. Gone was the signature fedora and the expensive suits. Now, he sat across from him, hair slightly disheveled, wearing jeans and a polo shirt under a sensible, warm winter jacket and yet he'd never looked happier.

'So, how are things?' Neal asked, slightly out of breath as he grabbed the menu on the table.

'Oh, you know… same old, same old' Peter replied noncommittally.

'And Elizabeth?’

'She's good, she's good. Busy, as usual.’

‘So, any new and exciting cases?' Neal asked as the waiter walked away with their orders.

'We're working that theft over at the Adonis Gallery last week' Peter replied.

'Oh yeah? What was taken from there?' Neal asked, his curiosity piqued.

'Some jewelry on display – pretty small stuff, really. What about you?’

Neal’s face brightened as he thought back on the past week at work. ‘You would _not_ believe what I had in my hands this week' he said, his voice suddenly animated.

Peter looked on, expectantly.

'A Rodin!' Neal said, pausing for effect.

Peter looked on, duly impressed. ‘Really? Which one?' he asked.

'The Cathedral!' Neal said with a flourish ‘Peter, it's beautiful – the lines are exquisite and I just couldn't put it down. You can see the tool marks on the hands, it's just awesome…'

Peter smiled at the sight of him. ‘I didn’t even realize it had been missing' he said.

'Yeah, since 2010. It disappeared from the Musée Rodin in Paris and it turned up in a private collection in Copenhagen just last week. Isn't that wild?' explained Neal, excitement obvious in his voice.

'Incredible' agreed Peter as Neal's enthusiasm began to rub off on him.

‘So, we still on for dinner next weekend?' he asked, changing the subject. ‘El wants to do it at our place.’

'Sure but I’ll have to check with Sara. I’m not sure we've got a sitter yet' Neal replied as he took a sip of his coffee.

Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrating in his shirt pocket and instinctively reached for it. Probably Sara needing him to pick something up on the way home.

Peter looked on as Neal grimaced, then frowned.

'What is it?’ he asked his best friend.

'It's another weird text' Neal replied absentmindedly as he plugged a number into his phone.

'Again, out of order’ he mumbled to himself. ‘Probably some burner phone.’

'You want to tell me what's going on?' Peter asked.

Neal looked up. ‘Last night we went out to dinner and Hope was acting up, grabbing fries from Liam's plate and then early this morning I get a text from some unknown number that said…'

He scrolled down to find the earlier text so he could relate it accurately to Peter. ' _Your daughter sure loves fries’._

'I thought it was just some kind of joke but I just got another one' he continued fiddling with his phone. _‘You’re daughter sure has a mean right kick.’_

Peter looked at Neal, needing context.

'This morning, I took Hope to her soccer tryouts and she scored a goal with a mean right kick…’

He looked around the diner suspiciously. ‘I don't like this Peter... Is this someone's idea of a joke?’

'Did you see anyone suspicious at the soccer dome?' Peter asked.

Neal shrugged. ‘It was packed... it's tryouts. And to be honest, I wasn't on the lookout for anything suspicious' he replied, annoyed at himself for not having been more aware of his surroundings.

‘It's probably someone's idea of a practical joke – not exactly threatening stuff' Peter said as Neal kept staring at his phone.

‘All the same’ he said, jotting down the two incoming numbers. ‘Can you run these numbers for me?'

‘Sure’ Peter said with a nod. ‘I’ll do it first thing Monday morning.’

Neal forced a smile but this was not sitting well with him. Not in the least.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Teddy Winters took his responsibilities as uncle to Neal and Sara’s children very seriously. He’d practically had an aneurysm when, on the eve of Liam’s birth, Neal had surprised him by asking him to be godfather to their son, something he hadn’t expected in a million years. Not that he wasn’t thrilled. He was… and he took his role very seriously, spending time with the little guy every chance he got. Surprisingly, it had all been Sara’s idea, something they both would have thought impossible just a few years earlier.

To say that he and Sara Ellis had had a contentious relationship over the years was an understatement. A few months before Hope’s birth, they’d had a major blow-up which, after careful and lengthy negotiation, had led to the understanding that Sara would never stand between him and Neal in exchange for Mozzie’s assurance that he would never put Neal in a situation that would land him back in the slammer. The arrangement suited them both just fine and Neal had been grateful that two of the most important people in his life had finally found a way to live in harmony.

It hadn't always been that way. In the early years, Sara and Mozzie had argued constantly as the older man tried everything to keep the couple apart and disrupt their intimacy. If he was honest with himself, he would have to admit it was purely a case of jealousy. Neal's attention was focussed on Sara and her feminine wiles and this did not sit well with Mozzie in the least. The truth was he didn't want to share Neal with anyone and he was convinced that neither one of them could ever be happy living a conventional life.

These days, he’d all but capitulated to their rather dull life, remaining an integral member of the extended Caffrey family and showing up announced for meals or anytime he felt like it - which was frequently.

‘It’s me!’ he announced from the front of the house where Sara could have sworn she’d locked the door.

‘Hey munchkin!’ he called out at the sight of Hope and her little friend surrounded by Barbies and all the Barbie paraphernalia.

Hope ran into his arms. 'Uncle Mozzie!' she squealed as she hugged him.

Sara looked up briefly from her computer screen at the kitchen table and gave him a fleeting hand wave as he proceeded to follow Hope into the family room where she and Olivia had set up to play.

'Oh, wow vintage Barbie!' Mozzie exclaimed as he picked up one of the dolls and began examining her. 'And you’ve got Midge! And Skipper! Where did you get these?’

'Mommy bought them at a garage sale' said Hope, seemingly unaware that these dolls were anything more than just... dolls.

‘These are worth a fortune!' he mused excitedly as he scrutinized each one, clearly originals – but then again, nothing of value escaped Mozzie's eagle eye.

Sara watched as Mozzie’s eyes lit up. ‘Forget it Moz, I know what you're thinking' she said, tuning into their discussion.

'I'm just saying...' he began.

'I know what you're _just saying_ ' she said, cutting him off. 'Do you want a glass of wine?’

'Actually, I came over to see if I could take Liam out for a while. It's cold but gorgeous out there and I thought I could take him out and pull him on that sleigh Neal bought for him.’

Sara smiled at the thought. ‘That sounds nice, Moz’ she said, handing him a glass of red. ‘He should be up from is nap anytime now.’

'So where's Boy Wonder?’ Mozzie asked as he settled at the kitchen table next to her.

‘He’s out having lunch with Peter. He’ll be home in a while.’

Sara looked up, noting a look of expectation on the man’s face.

‘What? What is it?’ she asked, finally clueing in to what that look meant. ‘Mozzie, would you like to stay for dinner?'

He smiled in response. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

WCWCWC

The building at West 48th and Pearl which housed the offices of Finch and Johns was virtually empty on Sunday afternoon when Matthew Keller made his way to the fortieth floor. He’d been casing the joint for about a week and knew exactly where his old friend's office was located. He made his way quietly and without incident.

His simmering anger towards his ex-partner was still very much alive although these days it was peppered with a unhealthy dose of envy for what Caffrey had managed to make of himself - not that Matthew Keller would ever admit to such a pitiful emotion. As far as he was concerned, Caffrey was still a two bit hustler just like him with one annoying difference: he’d managed to land on his feet and was now masquerading as a family man and law abiding citizen. Neal didn't deserve all this – a beautiful wife and a couple of cute kids, a great job, a house in suburbia, friends who looked up to him. He had grown up just like Keller had, with no one to watch over him, left to his own devices. Why should he have this terrific life when Keller had to go begging from job to job just to get by? Neal owed him and Keller had just the way to get his ex-partner to make amends for leaving him high and dry all those years ago.

A quick pick of his office lock and he made his way to Caffrey’s desk, taking a moment to admire the plush surroundings. He scoffed, choking down his resentment. Turning on the computer, he glanced at the picture on Neal's desktop: there she was, the beautiful Miss Ellis and two carbon copies of the two of them all smiling at the camera like they deserved to be happy. He easily made his way into Neal's e-mail account and within minutes he had cracked his password and was finishing up what he’d come to do.

He smirked as he walked away. Game on Caffrey!

WCWCWC

About the time Matthew Keller was strolling down Pearl Street, over on Meadowbrook Street in White Plains, scenes of sweet domesticity were playing out. Neal sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and keeping an eye on his daughter as she finished up her homework. With Sara and Liam visiting June, the house was unusually quiet as Hope worked away, the contents of her school bag scattered all over the table around her.

‘It’s not fair’ she groused. ‘Liam gets to visit Grandma June and I have to sit here and finish my stupid homework.’

Neal looked away from his laptop, grinning at the sight of her gnawing on the tip of her pencil as she’d seen him do so many times before. What was that old saying about imitation being the highest form of flattery?

'Well, that's life when you're almost seven years old. You have certain responsibilities' he reminded her. ‘You know it’s up to you… you can choose to get your homework done now so we can all watch a movie tonight or you can go out and play and sit here and work while the rest of us eat popcorn and watch TV after dinner' he continued.

He watched as she weighed her options. Truth was, Neal loved spending time with his daughter. She was smart - sometimes _too_ smart - and she had a thirst for knowledge, for life, always surprising her parents with her many questions. As a child, Neal had had all those same questions but no one to help him figure things out, something that had eventually been his downfall and had ended up leading him to a life of crime. Now that he was a dad, he was determined to be there for his kids, guiding them down the path of life while letting them draw their own conclusions about the world around them.

Hope sighed deeply and returned to the paper in front of her. ‘All right, I've finished math' she said, as Neal glanced down at her exercise book.

She hated math and saw absolutely no use for it in her life, present or future. Her interest lay in the arts and she loved reading, loved words, the sound of them, the look of them on paper. It seemed like a natural extension of her love of writing, drawing and painting. Anytime she had a pencil or paintbrush in her hand, she was happy – free to create, doodle, draw, paint... and _this,_ made Hope Ellis-Caffrey very happy.

'So, you ready to practice your spelling?' Neal asked as he closed the laptop and reached for her English notebook.

Hope nodded and grabbed for a fresh piece of paper while Neal perused the list of the words of the week.

'Oh, I see we've got words in _'ck'_ this week’ he said.

Hope frowned as if she were trying to figure out the mathematical formula for kinetic energy. ‘Daddy, I don’t get it’ she said. ‘If you're going to make the _'ca'_ sound, why would you need both a _'c'_ and and _‘k'_? Isn’t a _‘c’_ enough?’

Neal watched with amusement as she prattled on. ‘It seems like overkill' she added, as if she couldn't understand why the powers that be hadn't thought of that before.

He stifled a grin once again at Hope's colourful use of vocabulary. ‘Well, you can have a soft _‘c’_ or a hard _‘c’._ ’

She stared up at him, puzzled. ‘What’s a soft _‘c’_?’

‘The word ‘celery’ starts with a _‘c’_ but it sounds like an ’ _s’_ so using _‘ck’_ lets you know it’s a hard _‘c’_.’

Her frown deepened. ‘Whatever…’ she murmured, poising her pencil to write. ‘Hit me with the first word Dad!’

Neal did a mental eye roll. Some days she was still his baby girl while at other times she sounded more like a teenager.

‘All right, here we go, firs word: ‘ _luck_ ’’ he said as Hope stuck out her tongue and bit down gently as she began to write on the lined piece of paper.

_'Pocket_ ' Neal continued.

Hope stared ahead for a moment while she recalled the words she had studied on the blackboard at school. Finally, she began to write as little lines formed on her forehead, a sure sign she was concentrating.

' _Tracker_ ' he said, with a chuckle. ‘We were just talking about that yesterday’ he reminded her.

Hope nodded and wrote, once again.

'Two more' he said. ‘Here’s a hard one: _locket_.’

'That's easy Daddy, it's the same as pocket but with an _'l'_ she said, rolling her eyes at him.

‘And the last one… ready?’ he asked as she nodded. ‘ _Bucket_.’

Hope glanced down at the list of words on the page, double checking her spelling. Neal reached out for the piece of paper as she put up her hand to stop him. He sighed, watching as she signed her work with a flourish before handing over the piece of paper for correction.

Neal took one look and gave her the evil eye. ‘Honey, why do you keep doing that?' he asked, pointing to the 'E' in Ellis-Caffrey which she always wrote backwards, making it look more like a 3.

'It was cute when you were little but you're going into Grade 2 next year and your teachers are going to think you don't know how to print a simple 'E' he added, exasperated.

'It my trainmark, Daddy' she said, with confidence.

Neal frowned, not understanding what she meant.

'My _trainmark_!' she said louder as if it was as obvious as the nose on his face. 'You know, my individual way of doing it' she explained, her voice growing impatient.

'Oh, your _trademark_ ' Neal corrected.

‘Whatever’ she replied with a shrug. ‘It's my way of signing my name and nobody can make me stop’ she said defiantly as he laughed softly.

Oh yeah, she was a doodle all right - and he wouldn’t want her any other way.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Peter Burke arrived at the Federal Building early on Monday morning. There was something stimulating and unique about Mondays, the promise of a new beginning, perhaps a new case that would get his juices flowing. He made it up to his office, greeting the few staff who had arrived early as he climbed the few steps to the mezzanine.

He wanted to run those phone numbers for Neal before he got going with his day. Although the texts Neal had received were disturbing, they certainly weren't of a threatening nature but if it put Neal’s mind at rest, he was all for it.

'Well, you were right' he said into his phone a few minutes later. 'They were both burner phones – out of commission now and impossible to trace.’

‘All right' Neal sighed, somewhat disappointed 'Thanks for checking. Hopefully, it's just somebody's idea of a practical joke and that’ll be the end of it. I hate thinking someone's watching our every move.’

Peter smirked. ‘Hate to tell you buddy, but your life isn’t all that exciting these days’ he said as he swayed back and forth in his office chair.

‘All right… By the way, Mozzie’s going to sit with the kids on Saturday so we can come over.’

‘That's great’ came Peter’s reply.

And with that, both men fired up their computers and got to work.

WCWCWC

Samantha Jennings had been a school teacher for over ten years and she loved her pupils, every one of them – well _almost_ every one. Now that January had rolled around, her first grade students had finally settled into a routine, making life a lot easier. She surveyed the group, noticing Hope Ellis-Caffrey and Olivia Mason whispering to each other as they sat side by side, working on a group project. Those two were joined at the hip and she admired their loyalty to one another. They took the school bus to and from school together, went to recess together and always ate their lunch together. She enjoyed watching them as they helped each other out, finding a way to capitalize on Hope’s strengths in English and Olivia’s propensity for the sciences.

Except for the murmuring of hard at work six-year-olds, the classroom was quiet and she took a moment to re-read the e-mail that had been handed to her by the school principal, making sure she had all the details right.

_Mrs. Jennings,_

_Please note that Hope's uncle, Matthew Caffrey, will be picking her up at 12:30 Monday to take her to a doctor's appointment. He will be providing you with proper identification upon his arrival. Please release Hope into his care._

_Thank you._

_Neal Caffrey_

It was already quarter to twelve and the lunch monitors were starting to make their way into the classrooms as the children pulled out their lunch boxes and settled in to eat. Mrs. Jennings walked up to the grade six student whose responsibility it was to supervise her class.

'Kate, you know Hope Caffrey, right?' she asked the thirteen-year-old girl.

'Sure, she's over there with the dark, wavy hair and blue eyes' replied the young girl.

'That's right. Well, her uncle is picking her up at 12:30 so you can let her go with him when he arrives, okay?' said the teacher as she left for a well deserved break.

‘Sure thing, Mrs. Jennings' said the student as she settled in to watch the group.

The noise in the classroom was deafening as the group of children let loose after a few hours of being tethered to their desks. Olivia and Hope were not exception. They enjoyed having lunch at school, it made them feel grown up. There was something special about bringing your lunch in your very own lunch box, full of unique treats they’d talked their moms and dads into buying at the local grocery store. Every day, the girls compared lunches and most days, they’d put everything in a pile in order to share, pot luck style, which is exactly what they were doing on this day.

'Your mom makes really good chicken salad sandwiches' Olivia said as she took another big bite.

'That's my dad - he makes the _best_ sandwiches. My mom... not so much' Hope said knowingly as she dipped a nacho chip into some salsa Olivia had contributed to the spread.

The girls chatted, giggling as always and enjoying each other’s company as they prepared to go out to the school playground for some playtime before classes resumed at one o’clock.

‘I’ve got new boots’ Hope announced with pride. ‘They have fur inside.’

Olivia collected her things and got to her feet. ‘Show me’ she said.

The girls headed for the cloakroom at the back of the class while young Kate Forman directed traffic, sending the children out as they were fully dressed and ready to go.

'Come on Olivia. Out you go! Hope will catch up with you outside’ said the young girl as she shooed her away.

Kate crouched down, helping her young charge who was struggling with doing up her new boot laces. ‘Now get your coat on’ she said to Hope. ‘I've got to get back to my class.’

She turned, practically walking right into the stranger who was entering the classroom.

'Hi' the man said with a smile. ‘I'm here to pick up my niece… Hope Caffrey.’

‘That’s right…’ the young student said, pointing in Hope’s direction. ‘She’s right over there.’

‘Hope, your uncle is here’ she called out over her shoulder as she hurried out of the classroom.

Hope looked up towards the sound of the young girl’s voice. What was it she’d just said? And who was that man standing there, staring at her.

'Hi Hope' said Matthew Keller, crouching down to look directly into her eyes. ‘I'm a friend of your daddy’s. He asked me to pick you up and bring you to him. He's stuck at his office and I'm going to take you over there right now.’

Hope stared at him, her mouth hanging open as she replayed all those warnings from her parents about strangers. ‘I’m not supposed to go with strangers' she said after a moment.

'But I'm not a stranger, see I know your daddy, his name is Neal Caffrey and your mom's name is Sara Ellis – how would I know all that if I wasn't their friend' insisted Keller as he finally reached out, gently tugging on her coat lapel.

Hope looked into his eyes and instantly knew this was a bad idea. Through the classroom window, she could see Olivia out in the playground waiting for her. She pulled away with force and began to run towards the door of the classroom. If she could just make it out into the hallway, she could find a grown-up and tell them that there had been a terrible mistake.

But just as she made her move, she felt a damp cloth over her mouth and faster than she could make a sound, everything went black.

WCWCWC

Neal sat at his desk, finishing up his report on the recovered Rodin. Report writing was the most boring, least glamorous part of his job. Just as he’d disliked writing reports after a case was wrapped up at the White Collar Unit, these recovery reports were no less tedious. He thought ahead to the upcoming evening, the familiar routine of Monday night in suburbia. He had a fleeting thought for Liam who seemed to be feeling better and sleeping more which meant more sleep for him and Sara. Maybe he would even have some quality time with his wife. If he played his cards right, he might even get lucky.

His cell phone vibrated on his desktop and he glanced down to see who was texting him. Unknown number, he read, as he anxiously picked up his phone, hoping it wasn't another in the series of bizarre texts from the anonymous weekend caller.

_'Your daughter is really very lovely'_ he read as his eyes widened in fear.

This was getting really creepy.

He checked the time, realizing it was already past 4:30 and he immediately called home to check on things. It was Sara’s turn to wait for the bus and Hope should already be there by now. His wife’s phone went to voicemail, sounding alarm bells for Neal who began to quickly gather his things so he could head out. As he reached the first floor of his office building, his phone rang and he began to breathe again as he saw that Sara was calling him.

‘Hey, is everything okay?' he asked as he made his way out onto the street.

'Neal, I think Hope missed the bus’ she said, doing her best to sound calm. ‘I'm on my way to the school to find out what's going on. Mozzie's with Liam.’

Not having had the benefit of reading those texts, she did not seem overly alarmed but Neal knew instantly that something was very wrong. He tried to keep his breathing in check as he spoke.

‘I'll meet you over at the school' he said as he hailed a cab.

He sat in the taxi, staring into space, and he somehow knew that the unimaginable had happened - something had happened to Hope and he needed to get Peter and the FBI involved before the trail got cold. Not waiting for evidence to the contrary, he picked up his phone and dialled his best friend’s number.

WCWCWC

Hope woke to an unfamiliar taste in her mouth, her head pounding and her stomach growling. Except for faint light coming from a small window and a single bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, the room she was in was dark and dingy. She sat up and pushed off the blanket that was covering her on the small bed she’d been lying on. Her boots and coat lay on a small chair nearby. She turned towards the sound of a door opening.

'Hi Hope!' she heard as the same man she’d seen at school walked into the room, carrying a tray with juice and a sandwich.

'I thought you might be hungry so I brought you something to eat’ he said, smiling.

Even a six soon to be seven-year-old like Hope could tell when someone's smile was deceitful and she turned away from the man, refusing to look into his face.

'I'm your uncle Matthew and you're going to be staying with me for a little while' he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Hope stared back defiantly. 'You're not my uncle!’ she said angrily.

'Well, you can call me ‘Uncle Matthew’ if you like. Like I said, I'm a friend of your dad's' Keller explained, hoping to placate the child and keep her from becoming too upset.

All he needed was a few days for Neal to run some jobs for him and then he could disappear with some well deserved loot and start his life again. Let Neal suffer for a few days wondering what was happening to his daughter – it served him right for being so smug.

'You said you were taking me to his office. You lied to me! I want to go home' cried Hope as she kicked him, surprising him and sending the tray flying with juice spilling onto the concrete floor.

'Well, I can't take you home just yet, Hope' said Keller, his patience evaporating as he tried to right the tray and minimize the mess she'd made.

She seemed like a live one and he was momentarily reminded of spunky Sara Ellis whom he’d had the pleasure to have met on a couple of occasions. Maybe intimidation would be a better way to go.

His smile evaporated as he spoke. ‘I need your dad to do a few things for me and then _maybe_ I'll let you go home' he said with a chilling look that further frightened Hope.

At this, Hope threw herself on the bed and began to cry softly.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

The cab pulled into the parking lot of Ridgeway Elementary School just as Peter was arriving with Jones and Diana. Neal threw some money at the driver and ran towards the door Peter was holding open for him and he sprinted the short distance to the school office where he could hear muffled voices growing louder.

As he stepped inside, he was aware of several people standing around but his eyes immediately went to Sara who was sitting in a chair looking straight ahead as white as a ghost. She bolted upright the moment she heard Neal enter the room, making her way to him and staring at him intently as she spoke.

'She's not here, Neal' she said with panic in her voice and a look of terror in her eyes.

He nodded as he drew her close and he could hear Peter's voice behind him, introducing himself and taking control of the scene.

'I'm Peter Burke, FBI' he was saying as Neal turned to take stock of who else was in the room.

‘My name’s Joyce Miller, school principal' the woman was saying as she shook his hand.

‘Dempsey…’ Peter said, recognizing the uniformed man who was standing next to her. The NYPD seemed to have responded in record time and the man had two officers with him, ready to carry out any orders he barked at them.

'I called the police’ said Mrs. Miller, visibly shaken. 'It's our protocol for this type of… incident.’

Sara winced at the word. This wasn’t an ‘incident’. An incident was when you spilled coffee on your new silk blouse. This was a catastrophe. Their beautiful little girl had been taken away against her will while she was supposed to be in the safety of her Grade one class.

'Mr. Caffrey is a consultant for the FBI' Peter explained. ‘We're implementing our protocol for kidnapping of FBI family members but we certainly would appreciate NYPD's cooperation on this' he said as he spoke to the police officer.

Neal was surprised at just how calm Peter sounded. He was feeling anything but calm and was having trouble keeping his wits about him, not wanting to totally lose it in front of everyone. He needed to keep it together – for Sara and more importantly for Hope. He knew all too well that in the case of child abductions, the first few hours were critical – more than that and the child could be anywhere in the world.

'Jones, let's start with an Amber alert' Peter was saying as he reached into his wallet with shaking hands and took out Hope's latest school picture which she’d proudly given him just a few weeks earlier.

‘You can use this for now, it's recent' he added, his voice breaking ever so slightly.

Jones nodded and disappeared to carry out the task as Diana made her way over to Sara, who was still standing next to Neal, both of them motionless. She took Sara's arm and directed her over to a nearby chair, pulling her down with her as she took the seat beside her.

'Who were the last people to see Hope and at what time was she last seen?' Peter asked as everyone took a seat to try to piece together the last few hours.

'We received an e-mail this morning from Mr. Caffrey's verified account – we have a protocol about that too and parents know they must communicate with us using the e-mail addresses they've provided to the school' explained Mrs. Miller.

Neal frowned, puzzled.

‘May I see it please?' Peter asked.

The woman made her way to her desk and produced the piece of paper, handing it to Peter who took the time to read it before placing it in Neal's outstretched hand.

Neal read the short e-mail as his eyes grew wide, noting that the e-mail seemed to have emanated from his work address and he shook his head, indicating that he had not sent the message.

'What does it say?' Sara asked.

'That Hope has a doctor's appointment and can leave at 12:30 with her Uncle Matthew Caffrey' answered Peter, leaving Sara to gasp at the realization that this had been carefully orchestrated.

'You mean she's been gone for over four hours!' she exclaimed as her voice broke.

They were interrupted by the arrival of three women who entered the office together, a woman in her late thirties, pretty with blonde hair who Neal immediately recognized as Mrs. Jennings, Hope's teacher, a second older woman who Neal knew worked in the school office and a third, much younger girl who couldn't be more than fourteen years old.

Peter proceeded to piece together the events of the afternoon. The school secretary had gotten a mere glimpse of the man as he’d arrived, admitting she'd been distracted by a couple of emergencies, including a child who had injured himself on the playground. She was able to give a very cursory description of the man – height, colouring but little else. She’s simply directed him to Hope's classroom since she had written permission to release the child.

Mrs. Jennings had not laid eyes on him but she sat with Kate Forman, the young grade six student who was crying softly as she realized her role in what had transpired. Despite reassurances from the teacher that she had acted as she'd been instructed, the young girl was inconsolable as she sobbed softly, adding unnecessary drama to the tense moment.

Peter remained cool, calm and collected, a real pro and despite his personal relationship to the victim and her family, he was managing to keep his wits about him, mentally ticking each and every step of the protocol for child napping – particularly as it pertained to a family member of an FBI employee.

He knew he would have a helluva time keeping Neal in check. The ex-conman had never been one to follow rules at the best of times and in this case, he knew Neal would fight him at every turn if he didn't agree with his approach. He braced himself for this perfect storm of circumstances and after collecting all pertinent information from the staff at the school, the group moved to the Caffrey home where Peter proceeded to set up a command post in the Caffrey's family room.

Neal and Sara had a land line as well as individual cell phones and it was impossible to know which method the kidnappers would eventually choose to contact the family, something Peter knew was inevitable at some point.

He would need the full support of every member of his team if he was going to have any hope in hell of getting his goddaughter home safely – people to carry out the legwork, communications experts, and someone to help support Neal and Sara through this ordeal. Add to that his own feelings that the little girl he adored was in danger and his need to make sure Neal didn't do anything stupid in his desperation to get his daughter back, and it was definitely a volatile mix.

Elizabeth arrived, just as Mozzie was taking Liam over to June's. Everyone agreed that he would be safe there and Peter asked for help from NYPD in providing surveillance on Riverside Drive just as a precaution. Neal and Sara's lovely home, usually so warm and inviting, had become an FBI command post and it was nowhere for a toddler like little Liam to be hanging out.

Peter had brought in extra staff to see to food for everyone, to keep the logistics of the case in check and Elizabeth had been given the all-important job of shadowing Sara, keeping her informed of developments without alarming her and seeing to her every need.

The motley crew of twelve or so sat around the Caffrey's family room as they watched the news, Hope's kidnapping being the top story. Her beautiful smiling face flashed on their television screen and Sara began to sob as Neal sat by her side, their hands tightly clasped together as he stared intently at his daughter's face, trying desperately to keep his emotions in check.

WCWCWC

‘Neal… I need to know everything' Peter was saying as he sat with his best friend in the quiet living room away from the ever-growing operation in the family room at the back of the house.

‘I’ve told you everything I know' said Neal, hands shaking. 'I got three texts all together. Here's the last one I got, today at 4:37.’

He took a deep breath. 'I knew then...' he started, unable to finish.

Peter looked at Neal's phone and made a note of the last text message as well as the number it had originated from as he prepared to have it checked out yet knowing full well it would yield nothing. But due process was due process.

'Neal, look at me' he said, in an effort to gauge his partner's reaction. 'Do you have _any_ idea who might be behind this?’

He noticed a brief flutter in Neal's eyes, a dead giveaway, and he held his gaze as he waited for his answer.

'I – I don't know, Peter. But this is just the kind of sick thing Keller would do just to drive me insane. And the Matthew thing in the e-mail...' he added as he let his voice trail.

'I thought Keller was still in jail in Budapest' Peter said as he got to his feet and headed back to the command post at the back of the house.

Neal followed him out, anxiously looking over his shoulder as Peter logged into the computer to check the status of Matthew Keller's incarceration.

Peter finally looked up, addressing his team. 'Listen people, we have a possible suspect. Matthew Keller was released from prison three weeks ago. I want everything we can find on his whereabouts since then. Any known associates, where he's been the last few days, anything. Go, go.’

Sara listened in horror. She’d seen the kind of havoc Matthew Keller could cause. He was a ruthless, vengeful man and he despised Neal for making something of his life. There was no telling to what lengths this sick animal would go to make that point.

She glanced in Neal’s direction, sensing something in his eyes, something he hadn't shared with her. Suddenly, she was moving towards him, eyes wild and face contorted.

'You knew, didn’t you? You knew this had something to do with Keller!’ she said accusingly as she searched his eyes for some sort of explanation.

'No... Well, not exactly. I - ' he said as he struggled to string together a coherent sentence.

'On the weekend, I got a couple of strange texts and I —’

Sara’s face crumpled, her bottom lip quivering as anger began to build inside. All that worry and fear had finally come home to roost as she fell apart, totally losing control of her emotions.

'This is all _your_ fault!’ she shouted as she shoved Neal, harder than she’d meant to.

He stumbled back, stunned by her reaction. She stepped closer, letting her hands form into fists as she proceeded to slam them into his chest. ‘You knew and you didn’t say anything.’

'Babe…’ he murmured, making no attempt to stop her as she began to pound his chest repeatedly.

‘You and your fucking past… all these nasty excuses for human beings gravitating around us’ she continued, growing hysterical.

Her breathing grew shallow, her eyes fierce and unfocussed as if she were possessed. She continued to strike him with increased force as Neal stood there motionless, taking thump after thump as if it might somehow assuage the guilt he was feeling at not having done something sooner. Tears started forming in his eyes as Sara continued to shout, furious, slamming her fists into him, accusing him of having somehow seen this coming, rebuking him for not sharing his suspicions with her, scolding him for his shady past and its role in this nightmare.

Elizabeth and Peter watched in shock as the young couple lost all composure, falling apart before their very eyes as Sara’s pent up emotions exploded without restraint.

‘Sara! Sara, stop!’ Elizabeth finally said, unable to watch the scene any longer. She reached out, pulling a sobbing Sara away from her shell shocked husband.

‘Honey, stop it. This isn’t helping’ she said as Sara fell into her arms, sobbing while Neal stood there, tears streaming down his face.

WCWCWC

Hope woke at the sound of a door closing. She looked around, noticing some sunlight coming in from the small window on the back wall. Someone had left some toast and juice on a tray and a cardboard box by the bed. She rose tentatively, wiping her nose and face to remove the tears she’d fallen asleep crying and she began to move around the room.

Nothing else seemed to have changed. She made her way to the box peeking inside as curiosity got the best of her. Inside was a stuffed toy, a book and at the bottom, a sketching pad and some colouring pencils, a meek effort at keeping her subdued, no doubt.

She grabbed the tray of food and threw it violently against the wall as the loud noise reverberated in the empty room. He might be able to keep her here against her will but he couldn't make her do anything she didn't want to do.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Hope sat defiantly on the bed and waited for 'Uncle Matthew' to return. She knew her little stunt would probably force his return and she drew satisfaction from knowing she had some, albeit minute, control over the situation. Sure enough, he walked in within seconds, surveying the mess she’d made and clicking his tongue in disapproval.

'Hope, Hope, Hope! You can fight all you want but it's not going to change anything. You still have to stay here until I say you can go so I think you should be grateful for these little distractions and make the best of them' Keller said, hoping to provoke some sort of reaction.

She stared at him defiantly. She was headstrong, her daddy always told her so, and she was not about to let this scary man get the best of her. Her dad and Uncle Peter would be coming through that door any minute and she just needed to hang on and not show him how scared she really was.

'You have to eat' Keller said, as he began to clean up the mess.

'I don't _have_ to do anything' she replied, mustering up all the courage she could gather.

'Fine, have it your way' said the man, turning to leave. 'But you're going to get awfully hungry.’

She sneered at him as he prepared to leave her on her own. The truth was she _was_ hungry, starving in fact, but she was livid and she wanted to mess with this man's plans for her in any way she could.

She stood and made her way to the small window by the far wall. It was no more than one foot by one foot, not even big enough for her to crawl out of and besides it had bars on it. She dragged the small table that was in a corner of the room and she climbed onto it so she could get a look outside. Her face came flush to the window and she could see people's feet walking by and she craned her neck to see further along the street spotting a number of stores and buildings. Wherever she was it was fairly populated, but she recognized none of the landmarks.

She made her way back to the box of toys and picking up the sketch pad and pencils, she returned to her spot by the window where she began doodling, trying to relax and not panic. Her parents had always taught her there was a solution to every problem – you just had to let your mind roam and it would come to you.

WCWCWC

Morning dawned and there had still been no word from the kidnapper. There was still plenty of movement in the Caffrey household although the level of activity had subsided overnight as everyone waited for something to break in the case. Agents had been out since the day before canvassing the neighbourhood near Ridgeway Elementary School in the hopes someone might have seen something untoward on the previous afternoon but so far, no luck.

Sara had fought sleep but had eventually agreed to sit with Elizabeth in the living room where she’d eventually nodded off somewhere around four in the morning. Neal, meanwhile had been up all night, monitoring goings-on along Peter.

‘Here’ he said as he handed Peter his umpteenth cup of coffee.

Peter reached for the cup. ‘Why don’t you go lie down for a while? I promise I’ll wake you if there’s anything new?’

Neal shook his head. ‘I’m good’ he murmured. ‘I’m going to go check on Sara.’

The sound of his footsteps woke Elizabeth who looked up and smiled at Neal as he stepped into the living room. Sara, on the other hand, was sound asleep, her head lying back against the back of the couch.

‘There’s fresh coffee’ Neal said, as El got to her feet, relinquishing her seat.

She lay her hand on his arm and squeezed gently before walking away and Neal settled into the spot El had vacated, setting down his cup of coffee. He gently lay his arm against the back of the couch, grazing Sara’s hair and causing her to open her eyes as she took in her surroundings.

‘Anything?’ she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

He shook his head and opened up his arms to her.

'I was hoping it was just a bad dream' she said as she let him pull her in, her face burrowing into his chest.

'I'm sorry about last night... those horrible things I said' she added, her voice muffled.

He held her close, saying nothing. Neither one of them were in their right mind, he closing himself off and she, lashing out at the most obvious target. She pulled away momentarily to look at him, seeing the sadness and worry in his eyes.

‘I guess I just… I just lost it.’

‘It’s okay’ he murmured softly.

‘No it’s not. I had no right to say those things. None of this is your fault Neal.’

He sighed. ‘I should have told you about those weird texts' he admitted. 'They were just these innocuous looking things and I thought it was a joke and I...'

He stopped suddenly and for the first time since Hope’s disappearance, safe in his wife’s warm embrace, he broke down and began to cry, the sobs coming in loud, staccato wails he could no longer control. He’d been keeping it together for the past twelve hours, afraid that if he let it out, he would be unable to stop.

Sara cradled him against her chest, running her hand gently through his hair, the wails morphing into soft, muffled sobs as Neal let himself be comforted, exhausted and totally desolate.

‘Oh baby, don’t cry’ Sara pleaded as she held him. ‘We’ll find her. We have to believe we’ll find her.’

They sat in silence for a few moments, huddled together and crying softly as they tried to gather strength from one another. Finally, Neal took a shaky breath and sat up, determined to rein in his emotions for both their sakes. He forced himself to smile and ran his thumb down Sara’s cheek, wiping the tears which had escaped onto her troubled face.

‘You’re right, we’ve got to be strong. She's out there somewhere and she's scared… and she’s counting on us to be strong.’

Sara nodded and sniffled in response. 

‘If it is Keller’ Neal said. ‘I don't think he'd hurt her. This is just… some sick, twisted attempt at getting inside my head.’

They were interrupted by a commotion as Peter bustled into the living room, carrying Neal's phone.

‘It’sringing' he said, handing the cell to his buddy. 'Take a deep breath.’

Neal reached for the phone and took one last calming breath as he put the call on speaker phone.

‘Hello' he said, his voice monotone.

'Caffrey, it's been a while' the all-too-familiar voice spoke.

'Keller' Neal replied, trying to hide his emotions despite the fact his heart was beating out of his chest.

'She really is a lovely little girl' the other man said tauntingly. ‘Feisty… like her mom.’

Neal took in a deep breath, trying not to react to his goading.

'I want to talk to her' he said as he glanced over at Sara, eyes widening.

'All in good time Caffrey - ' Keller began as Neal cut him off.

‘No Keller! I'm hanging up right now if you don't let me talk to her' he said, taking a calculated risk.

He could feel Peter’s gaze boring into him.

'Sweetheart, your daddy's on the phone' said Keller with mock concern. They could hear movement in the background, perhaps a gag being removed from his daughter's mouth.

‘Daddy?' she said finally, her voice shaky and weak.

Sara’s hand went to her mouth as she gasped. She grabbed for Neal’s arm and squeezed.

'Hope! Honey, it’s me, it’s Daddy. Are you hurt?' Neal said, trying to keep his voice calm.

'No' she said, simply. ‘I’m just scared.’

The words tore through Neal like a knife.

‘Honey, Mommy and I are gonna find you, okay? You just hang on and we'll come for you – ' Neal managed to say before being cut off abruptly.

'That's all you're getting, Caffrey. Now listen, I have a mission for you. Check your phone and do what I tell you if you want your little girl back in one piece.’

Neal opened his mouth to speak but it was too late. The line had gone dead.

'Sorry sir, nothing' said Blake as he popped his head in from the family room where they had been monitoring the phone call.

Everyone returned to their post, Diana running things in the back room and Peter and El sitting in the living room with Neal and Sara, waiting... waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Neal stared at his phone expectantly. What kind of sick game was Keller playing? He said he had a mission for Neal – did he want him to steal something? Arrange a meet? Get him out of some mess he'd gotten himself into?. Only time would tell.

Within a few minutes, Neal's phone came alive with a text message.

Three words with an attachment. _‘I want this.’_

Neal showed his screen to Peter, both of them staring back at a well- known piece of art.

‘The Gauguin exhibit at the MoMA…’ Neal said, recognizing the piece.

Peter stared into his best friend’s eyes, surmising what he was thinking. 'Neal, this isn't the way. We don’t negotiate with kidnappers, you know that. You have to let us do our job.’

The anger Neal had been suppressing seemed to bubble to the surface all at once.

‘Your job?’ he shouted, lashing out at his best friend. ‘And what exactly is that Peter? Sitting around here waiting for something to magically materialize while Hope is going through whatever the hell he's putting her through?’

'You know that's not how it is Neal. We've got people out there, scouring the streets, checking out leads - ' Peter began.

Neal was having none of it. ‘Leads?’ he repeated angrily. ‘What leads, Peter? We have _no_ leads!’

Sara watched as her husband began to lose it, reaching out to touch his arm and stepping back as he pulled away abruptly.

He continued to aim his venom directly at his best friend. 'Right now, we have a chance to get Hope back if I do exactly what he asks. He's been in jail for the past year and he needs cash. He's probably lined up a buyer for this painting and if we give it to him, he'll crawl back into the same hole he came out of.’

'That's not how this works, Neal. We can't let guys like Keller lord things over us, we're the FBI. If we cave in to his demands, that'll be a clear message to every crook out there that all they have to do is abduct someone whose got links to the Bureau and we'll roll over and give them whatever they want.’

‘I don’t give a shit about anybody else’ Neal shouted, his voice wavering. ‘This is Hope we’re talking about.’

Peter’s voice broke as he spoke. ‘Don’t you think I know that!’

Elizabeth and Sara watched helplessly as their husbands faced off, both adamant about their positions. They looked from one man to the other as each stared the other down, unwilling to back down.

Finally Neal stood and started walking towards the front door. ‘I’ve got a chance to get my little girl back and I’m damn well going to take it’ he declared as he grabbed his coat and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

WCWCWC

Hope sat on the bed, her stomach growling as she absentmindedly drew on the sketching pad she was holding in her lap. She looked down at her growing collection of sketches. She had been idly drawing the room, the bed, the table, the door, the window - anything to keep busy and try to keep her fears in check. She began to add shading to her latest drawing just as her dad had begun to teach her back at home in their studio.

Her mind wandered as she looked around the room. Maybe she could figure out a way out. The window... maybe she could draw what she saw outside. If she could find a way to get 'Uncle Matthew' to take her out somewhere, maybe she could get a message to someone, ask for help. She made her way to the window, dragging the table with her so she could climb up on it. She noticed it wasn't quite as bright out and she wondered what time it was. She began her sketch, noticing the names of the stores in her line of sight and spying a small sign across the street that read 'post office' in front of a general store. The sign was on a cute little post with the design of a horse on top and she struggled to reproduce it on the piece of sketching paper. She startled at the sound of a key in the lock and jumped off the table, sitting on it and stuffing the sketch she was drawing between the sheets of paper in her pad just as Keller stepped into the room.

'What are you doing over there?' he asked suspiciously.

'I'm drawing' she answered rudely as she quickly began a new sketch from her vantage point of the room.

'Well, get away from that window' he admonished as he made his way into the room, carrying food once more.

Hope got up, putting the pad down on the bed and took the bowl of chili he handed her. She looked down at it, then back at Keller and in one swift movement, she threw the contents of the bowl right in his face.

WCWCWC

Mozzie unfurled himself from the lotus position as he heard sounds emanating from outside the door of his second favourite hideaway: Thursday. He peeked out the peephole, spotting Neal right outside, breaking in with his lock pick set.

'What the...' he said, opening the door.

'Next time, tell me where you're gonna be, Moz. This is the third safe house I've checked' Neal said as he barged in.

'Sorry, I just couldn't stay at your place with all those suits crawling around. I thought it would do Hope more good if I meditated and sent her some positive vibes' he explained. ‘Is there anything new?'

Neal stepped in, taking a seat across from his old friend. ‘It’s Keller, Moz’ he said. ‘He wants me to get him a Gauguin in exchange for Hope.’

' _Any_ Gauguin?' asked Mozzie.

Neal shook his head, producing his phone and showing him the photograph.

‘Ah, _Le vase de fleurs_ ’ Moz said knowingly as he recognized the painting. ‘He probably has a buyer overseas.’

‘Well, it’s on display at the MoMA and I’ve decided to get it for him.’

Mozzie stared back. Neal had been on the up and up pretty well ever since Hope was born. Was he seriously considering breaking into one of the most prestigious museums in Manhattan and walking away with a multi-million dollar painting?

'And what does the Suit say about that?' he asked, already surmising the answer.

Neal raised his eyebrows in response.

‘Oh… so you two had a falling out’ Mozzie said.

Neal’s face grew serious, those persistent worry lines appearing on his forehead. 'This is Hope, Moz. If I need to steal something to get her back, I'm damn well gonna do it. Are you in?’

Mozzie paused for a moment, noting the look of determination in his old friend’s eyes.

‘Do bears shit in the woods?’ he finally said in response.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Night fell on White Plains, New York and Neal still hadn’t made it home, leaving Sara to ponder his whereabouts. Her hotheaded husband was likely off somewhere planning and/or carrying out a heist, putting himself at risk of landing in the slammer. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she was separated from her son who was miles away in Manhattan and her daughter… well, she had no idea where her little girl was sleeping for the second straight night. Elizabeth brought her a cup of tea and tried to get her to sit but to no avail. Sara paced as Peter and his team came and went with reports of... nothing. Except for an eyewitness who had given a vague description of a van seen leaving the school grounds, they had nothing new to report.

Agents continued to scour the area but Sara knew, as did Peter, that Hope could be miles away by now, possibly even out of the country.

Miles away, Hope lay on an old lumpy mattress, crying softly. She tried to limit her crying jags to moments when she was alone, refusing to give her abductor the satisfaction of seeing her upset. Luckily, he only came and went sporadically, usually to bring her food which she was determined not to partake of. She held onto her empty stomach as she heard it grumble and wondered about the effectiveness of her hunger strike. She couldn’t be sure it was working although the man seemed to be growing increasingly frustrated by her resistance. He’d even started asking her what she wanted to eat so he could cater to her particular tastes.

Outside the room, she could hear muffled sounds and she could sense something was about to happen. ‘Uncle Matthew’ seemed nervous and she wondered if whatever he’d been asking for in exchange for her return was about to materialize. She whimpered as she thought of her mom and dad who would be so worried about her. They’d be doing all they could to bring her home. Her thoughts turned to her baby brother and she sighed as she recalled how mean she’d been to him lately. She’d do just about anything to see his annoying little face right about now.

She took out the sketch she’d been working on so diligently, making sure all the details were right. Finally, she carefully folded it up and stood, walking over to the chair where her winter coat lay and placing the drawing in her pocket.

WCWCWC

Neal and Mozzie sat in the safe house going over the floor plans of the Museum of Modern Art. The Gauguin Keller had demanded was part of an exhibit which was set to begin the following week which meant the painting was probably still in the basement of the museum in the holding area. Neal had investigated many thefts at the MoMA and he knew the layout well. He was confident that, although Peter disagreed with what he was about to do, he wouldn’t rat him out or try to interfere with his plan. He hadn’t broken in anywhere in years and yet, he was feeling confident he could pull this off. If everything went according to plan, he would have his little girl back home by morning.

WCWCWC

It was a clear night, the full moon making it easier to move around. The moon shining on the freshly fallen snow also made them more visible and consequently, more vulnerable. Mozzie had commandeered a nondescript van and was in position a block away as Neal stealthily made his way to the back entrance of the museum. It was the staff entrance, not connected to any alarm system that Neal knew of since it led to the offices and work areas of the museum. Once inside, he would have to deactivate the alarm which led to the holding area where paintings were stored on their way in or out of the various galleries. He wouldn't have much time to locate the coveted item and he prayed he’d be able to locate it in record time considering the exhibit was to feature two dozen or so of the artist's works.

He took out his lock pick set, noticing his hands were shaking – a very unusual occurrence for the ex-conman. He was sorely out of practice and the stakes were high - it wasn't every day you stole something so you could get your daughter back from the clutches of a kidnapper. He was making some progress when he became aware of a presence lurking behind him.

‘Neal…’ he heard.

He froze as he recognized the familiar voice. He took a deep breath and turned around to face the intruder.

'Are you sure you want to do this?' the man asked, his voice calm.

Neal stared ahead, holding his breath. ‘Are you here to arrest me?' he asked.

'No' the other man said simply.

'Then I'm sure I want to do this' he countered as he returned to his unlawful task.

‘For God’s sake, be careful' came the reply.

Within minutes, Neal had located his target and had slipped out of the museum without setting off any alarms. Mozzie was waiting and they high tailed it back to the safe house to prepare the illicit parcel for delivery in the morning.

WCWCWC

It was almost two in the morning when Neal finally made it home. He wanted to check in on Sara, fully aware of the fact he’d left her alone to fret about what he was up to. He’d been gone since that morning and she would be going out of her mind with worry. He was exhausted, not having slept in almost forty-eight hours; perhaps he could get a couple of hours of sleep before his scheduled six o'clock meeting with Keller.

The house was quiet when he arrived although there was still a minimum of activity. Three agents sat sipping coffee in his kitchen as they monitored the case, coordinating the ins and outs of agents and constantly on the ready should a phone call from the kidnapper come in on the land line.

Peter sat in the family room, his head back on the couch, his eyes closed. He looked exhausted and Neal was reminded of what a loving and devoted a friend he was. Although the two men had disagreed about so many things over the years, he knew Peter always had his best interest at heart and more importantly that he always had his back.

'Any news?' Neal asked, more for form than anything else. He knew if there were any new developments, he’d be the first to know.

Peter just shook his head sadly. ‘Not yet’ he murmured.

‘How did it go?' he asked cagily, walking the fine line between friend and lawman.

Neal shrugged ever so slightly – plausible deniability and all.

'I finally convinced Sara to go lie down' Peter said. 'We had to give her something to take the edge off. She's been crying all afternoon.’

Neal felt a pang of guilt slice through him. At least, he’d had the benefit of doing something to occupy his time whereas Sara had been sitting here all day, wondering where Hope was and what he was up to.

He made his way upstairs and found her lying on top of the bedcovers on their bed, fully clothed but breathing evenly, relieved to know she was getting some respite from the constant worry. He quietly removed his shoes and slipped in beside her, wanting so badly to take her in his arms. He resisted the urge, reluctant to disturb her much needed sleep and settled for lying next to her, scrutinizing her face, her beautiful face that, even in sleep, appeared strained and tense. Sara was his rock and over the years they’d developed the all-important skill of being an effective tag-team when it came to their kids. Whenever she was down, he would rise to the occasion and vice-versa enabling them to get through some tough times together, coming out the other side, unscathed.

He couldn't quite believe what was happening and his mind wandered to Hope, his beautiful little girl, strong in so many ways yet so fragile. Once again, he reflected on how his criminal past had played a role in this, chastising himself for having ever laid eyes on Matthew Keller. He shook the thought immediately, reminding himself that all he could do now was try to make things right for his family.

When he woke three hours later, Sara still hadn't stirred. He left a note on his pillow and headed back out into the early dawn.

WCWCWC

Mozzie dropped Neal off two blocks from the meet site. Neither he nor Neal wanted to do anything to challenge the very clear instructions Keller had given them. Hope's life was at stake and Neal wasn't about to do anything that would antagonize her kidnapper.

He made his way on foot, heading north towards the abandoned warehouses on the East River. He didn't know the area particularly well but he’d been there on a couple of cases and he made his way, reminding himself that if all went well, he would have his daughter safely back in his arms in a matter of minutes. He walked briskly as he carried the tube containing the painting over his shoulder. It was early, not quite six and the sun was a mere glow on the winter horizon. He stopped on the spot Keller had identified and waited, looking around for any tell tale signs of his impending arrival. His stomach flip flopped, his breathing loud and irregular as he stood in the cold early morning with the outcome totally out of his control.

‘Caffrey!’ he heard.

He turned towards the sound of the voice. Out of one of the abandoned warehouses, came Keller with Hope next to him. He was holding her tightly by the scruff of the neck, so tight in fact that Neal could see her feet were barely touching the ground. His instinct was to run towards her but he held back as he noticed the gun in Keller's hand.

'Hope!' he called out, seeing his daughter off in the distance.

'Daddy!' she replied, her voice surprisingly strong.

'Put the tube down and back away’ Keller instructed.

‘No!’ Neal replied with a calm that belied his pounding heard. ‘Let Hope come to me first.’

‘No way’ Keller replied. 'I'm the one calling the shots here.’

He waved the gun in Hope's general direction and Neal felt this heart skip a beat. He reluctantly put the painting down on the ground and put his hands up, indicating he was unarmed.

'Come on, Keller. I did everything you asked, now let her go' he said, taking a tentative step towards them.

Keller pointed the gun a few inches from Neal's feet and fired off a warning shot.

'DADDY!' screamed Hope, startled.

'It's okay, It's okay baby, I’m okay’ he said reassuringly.

He continued backing up as instructed and Keller, still holding Hope tightly made his way towards the parcel, instructing the little girl to pick it up.

Neal was approximately twenty feet away from them and he toyed with the idea of charging Keller but the speed of his legs was no match for a speeding bullet from a gun pointed directly at his daughter.

Keller gave him a sick, twisted smile. ‘We’re not done yet, Caffrey. I have one more errand for you to run.’

Neal felt his throat constricting as panic set in. ‘NO! That wasn't the deal, Keller. Let her go, she's just a little girl!’

Despite his resolve to deny his nemesis any appearance of weakness, he could feel his voice breaking as he spoke, triggering yet another sick, perverted laugh from Keller. He smiled impishly, obviously pleased with himself. He had Neal right where he wanted him: desperate and frantic.

Hope made a misguided attempt at kicking her captor in the shin and without missing a beat, Keller picked her up by the waist and began dragging her away as she kicked and screamed, leaving Neal feeling totally despondent. As Keller backed away with Hope tucked under his arm, Neal saw his little girl deliberately put a hand in her coat pocket and gently drop what looked like a piece of paper. He watched it float down to the ground as Keller continued to make his getaway, eyes locked on Neal as he walked towards the vehicle he’d ostensibly hidden by the side of the building he’d appeared from. Within seconds he heard a car start, the sound of the motor fading as Keller drove away, out of sight and taking his precious daughter with him.

Neal ran to where Hope had been standing. There was a folded piece of paper lying on the snow and, with trembling hands, he bent down to pick it up.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

‘I’m telling you Peter. She’s trying to tell us where she's being held' Neal said again as he and his ex-handler examined the drawing for the umpteenth time.

It was a long shot, to be sure but Hope was one smart cookie and Peter wouldn’t put it past her to try to give them some clue they could follow.

‘All right’ he said, focusing on the small details of the sketch. ‘Let's go over everything once more.’

They’d already begun to make a list of all recognizable landmarks but despite her budding talent, Hope remained a soon to be seven-year-old and she was lacking in the refinement of a more mature artist. They could clearly see a Sears pick-up outlet as well as a CVS drugstore. There were thousands of each of those stores so that information in and of itself would only be helpful if they managed to narrow things down.

Peter already had the Harvard crew making a list of all Sears outlets within a thirty mile radius and cross-referencing with CVS stores. It was a safe bet Keller was within an hour of New York, considering he had met with Neal a few hours before.

Hope had drawn street lamps – the old fashioned type with a round globe sitting atop a cast iron post - definitely not downtown Manhattan, that was for sure.

Sara hovered, glancing at the sketch and pointing out small subtle details.

'What's this over here?' she asked, pointing to the small sign Hope had so painstakingly tried to copy.

Neal focused in, eyes narrowing. ‘It says _post office_ and that's some kind of animal on top of the pole' he said.

‘It looks like a horse to me' Sara added, pointing. 'Look at the tail.’

‘Could be’ he nodded in agreement.

'And here…’ Sara continued. ‘That looks like an outdoor café that's been closed over the winter months – see the chairs stacked up here.’

'Too bad there's not a name on that café' Neal said, running his hand through his hair.

'She did amazingly well' Peter commented.

Sara sidled up to Neal and slipped her arm around his waist.

'She did great’ he agreed, bringing his arm to rest around her shoulder and placing a kiss on the top of her head. ‘God, I'm proud of our kid.’

'How long before we get a cross-reference on those stores?' Sara asked, growing impatient.

'Anytime now' Peter replied as he took a sip of coffee, his fifth of the day.

It was ten in the morning and Keller had not yet been in touch with his next set of demands but Neal had already decided he wouldn’t be following through on them. He and Peter had discussed it at length and were in agreement that Keller was going to keep him jumping through hoops just to torture him and frankly, Neal was done with that. He wanted to concentrate on this new lead, compliments of Hope, and try to locate her through the well thought-out message she had managed to get to them.

The sketch had energized everyone and had provided renewed optimism that they would ultimately be able to locate her. It had now been forty-eight hours since the kidnapping and this had been the first significant break they'd had on the case. The fact that it had come directly from the victim herself – a six-year-old no less – was astounding and Peter and Neal could only theorize that Keller had no idea who he was dealing with and how smart and brave their girl was.

Jones strode in and made his way to the trio hunched over the island in the kitchen, still scrutinizing the drawing.

'Peter, we've got fourteen locations within a thirty mile radius where there's both a CVS drugstore and a Sears outlet of some sort in close proximity. The Sears outlets vary a lot though – some are within a post office, dry cleaners, any type of business really, so it's hard to know just from the address.’

‘All right' said Peter, taking control. ‘I want teams at all fourteen locations and I want visuals on all of them. Be discreet. Keller is roaming around one of those areas and if he spots anything, he could panic.’

WCWCWC

Following the meet with Neal, Hope and Keller had made their way back to the abandoned building he was holding her in. This kid was turning out to be a royal pain in the ass and Keller was beginning to get really pissed off at her antics. He rubbed his leg where a nice bright bruise was blooming following the decisive kick she'd administered. He looked down at the Gauguin, smiling in satisfaction.

Now, all he had to do was arrange for a meet with his fence who would get the painting to his client in Berlin. Despite what he'd said to Neal, he had no particular mission for him – he was just having a really good time messing with his ex-partner, watching him squirm, knowing he would agree to almost anything in order to get his precious little girl back.

He wanted to keep him hanging a little longer just to prolong the agony – then he would text him some inane instructions just to keep him on the hook. He wanted to hole up for just a few days longer until the painting disappeared and he got his hands on the long awaited proceeds which would allow him to flee the country once more. Two million should keep him going for a few months.

Hope still hadn't eaten and Keller was getting antsy. He didn't want a kid dying of hunger on his watch. She was a real little spitfire and she was beginning to grate on his nerves, daring him at every turn, refusing to cooperate. Maybe if he picked up something she particularly liked, she would eat, he reflected as he made his way back to the locked room to check on her.

He wasn't expecting what he found when he got there.

WCWCWC

Hope looked around the room, thinking back to the precious few seconds when she'd seen her dad. He’d seemed so upset and she’d wanted so desperately to run to him and let him whisk her away. She wondered if he’d noticed her dropping the sketch on the ground – she couldn't know for sure. She'd been busy trying to distract 'Uncle Matthew' so he wouldn't notice what she was up to. Now, she was looking for some other way she could drive her captor crazy. He hadn’t yet harmed her physically but she couldn't be sure he wouldn’t if he got angry enough.

She stared longingly at the tray of food he’d left – toast and juice again – and it was becoming increasingly difficult to resist. But she'd noticed that her refusal to eat was really getting under his skin and she figured, somehow, she had to keep playing that card. It was the only control she had over him.

She looked around once more. She didn’t have much to work with but she decided that a finely sharpened pencil would have to do.

WCWCWC

Matthew Keller could hear noise coming from the locked room and wondered what the little brat was up to this time. He opened the door, bracing himself, his eyes widening at the sight of the mess she had made.

‘Why you little bitch!’ he shouted as he stepped in.

The table and chair had been thrown violently against the wall and had broken into several pieces and the pillow Hope had been lying on had been ripped open and the feathers strewn all over the room. She had somehow managed to rip the mattress open and had made a mess of its contents, with foam and coils all over the place.

She stood in the middle of the room with a defiant grin on her face as her insides shook uncontrollably. She knew she’d pushed him to the limit and she braced herself for what might be coming. Anything was better than letting him think he could get the best of her.

He glared at her, eyes glowing in anger. She was turning out to be more trouble than she was worth. He grabbed her roughly and directed her to her coat and boots.

‘That’s it. You’ve caused enough trouble’ he said harshly. ‘Get dressed. I have an errand to run and I sure as hell don’t trust you here alone.’

Hope did as she was told, smiling to herself at the chance of getting out there in the world. She tugged on her boots, noticing her hands were shaking as she attempted to tie the laces.

'Aww, look at this Hope' Keller said, regaining control of the situation.

He held up his phone, showing her a picture of her baby brother. 'Here's a picture of little Liam' he said. ‘Isn't he cute? Do you like being a big sister, Hope?’

She kept staring at him fearlessly.

'It would be really too bad if something happened to him, don't you think?' he continued. 'Your mommy and daddy would be so sad if both their children disappeared.’

She felt anger bubbling inside. ‘Don't you touch my brother' she said, lashing out at him.

He reacted by grabbing her wrists and squeezing hard, making her wince despite her best intentions to remain stoic.

'Now you listen to me, you little brat. We are going to meet with someone and while we're there, if you so much as look sideways at anybody, your little brother is going to have a terrible accident. Do you understand what I'm saying?' he spat out vehemently.

Hope's eyes began to well up as she nodded silently.

'Now move! And keep your goddamn mouth shut' he added as he pushed her out the door.

WCWCWC

Hope took place in the van next to her kidnapper and looked around silently. Now that she was outside again, she noticed tons of details she hadn’t been able to see from the small window in her dungeon. She wished she could have a 'do-over' on her sketch. She noticed a street sign as Keller turned left off the street he’d parked on - Park Street - although she realized that sounded like an awfully common street name.

She sat in silence, looking around - if only she could figure out where she was, she could try to send a message somehow. She knew that New York City had five boroughs and she was pretty sure they were still in New York but she didn't know where they'd come from or where they were headed.

Back when she’d been knee high to a grasshopper, her parents had drilled into her that they lived at 4788 Meadowbrook Street in White Plains, New York. But geography really wasn't her thing and she continued to look around for some telltale signs of where they might be. Suddenly, Keller turned onto a huge bridge and she looked out the window, momentarily admiring the view. As they came off the bridge, she saw a sign for Queens and she remembered that was one of the boroughs she’d learned about. It still didn’t tell her where they'd come from though.

It seemed to take forever to get to their destination and the whole time, Hope studied the clock in the van, doing her best to figure out how much time had elapsed since they’d left their hideaway. Maybe math was good for something after all she thought as she mentally calculated that thirty-eight minutes had elapsed since they'd left.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Keller pulled into a shopping centre parking lot and stopped the van.

'Now you listen to me you little twerp' he said sharply. 'We're going into this store and you're going to hold your Uncle Matthew's hand the whole time, do you understand?'

Hope nodded.

'Keep your hat on – I don't care how hot it is in there. Got it?’

Again, she nodded, looking down.

She thought back to that terrific advice from her dad: _'Never give up; there's a solution to every problem_ ' and she stepped out of the van taking the monster's outstretched hand.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

It took several hours to get visuals on all fourteen of the locations the FBI had cased. By late afternoon, the photographs began arriving and the crew started organizing them by location, spreading them out onto the Caffrey's large dining room table. Armed with copies of Hope's drawing, each team scrutinized a set of photographs desperately searching for similarities.

Neal and Sara hadn't eaten all day and they finally gave in, munching on cold pizza as they went around to each of the teams, making sure none of them missed some obscure element in Hope's drawing. Although Peter had dared to hope the similarities with Hope’s drawing would be more obvious, it wasn't the case. For one thing, Hope’s drawing was just that, a drawing by a six-year-old kid without the finite details afforded by a photograph. From all appearances, she’d been drawing from a very specific vantage point and wouldn’t have had a clear picture of the overall street she’d been looking out at.

From the outset, it was agreed that Sara, Neal and Peter would have the ultimate say in which of the locations were placed in the rejection pile. Some of the photographs had been taken in large urban areas, nothing like what had been depicted in the drawing and those could be eliminated from the start while others were not so easy to dismiss. The last thing they wanted to do was accidentally eliminate the one location they were so desperately searching for.

For the young parents, doing something, anything, was a welcome relief. For the first time since the nightmare had begun, they were feeling energized. Liam had been brought over for a visit and the two of them had sat and played with him for about an hour while they waited for the recon crew to return with the photographs. He’d seemed happy enough, unperturbed by his change of routine and Neal and Sara had taken turns holding him tight, something they sadly couldn’t do for their daughter at the moment. And yet, they were feeling optimistic, refusing to give in to their fears now that they finally had a solid lead.

At around two o'clock, Keller sent Neal a text, telling him to head over to a post office on the Upper East Side to pick up an envelope for him. Peter and Neal discussed whether or not to follow-through but considering how innocuous the request was, they agreed to the request, if only to give Neal an in for an eventual face to face with Keller. So, Neal headed out, alone, and returned with an envelope about an hour later. The package was opened and inspected by Peter's team – the contents cut paper and nothing else, proving what they’d suspected all along, that Keller was just toying with Neal by making him run around carrying out pointless tasks.

They had eliminated eight of the fourteen possible locations by the time Peter's phone rang at around five o'clock – a call from the local police in Queens.

WCWCWC

At around two thirty that afternoon, Matthew Keller was caught on surveillance tape as he waltzed into a Wal-Mart in Queens, holding a little girl's hand and carrying an art tube over his shoulder. The place was bustling and he blended in with the countless moms and dads, running errands in the busy store. On the heels of his threats against her baby brother, Hope was cooperating, doing exactly what she’d been told.

Keller surveyed the layout of the store, eager to carry out the long awaited exchange and finally get his hands on a substantial deposit for the stolen painting. The twosome walked inconspicuously up and down the aisles as Keller slowly made his way to the appointed meeting place – aisle 18.

Once there, he glanced around, searching for his contact. The aisle housed a number of breakfast items including cereal, coffee and granola bars and with her stomach still doing somersaults, Hope began to salivate as she perused the offerings. The longer she put off eating, the worse she felt and she was actually starting to feel dizzy if she moved too quickly. That, plus having food dangled in front of her nose, was turning out to be more temptation than the six-year-old could handle.

'I like cereal' she said quietly as Keller continued to survey the immediate area looking for his fence.

'What?' he asked, distracted.

‘Cereal… I like it and I'll eat it if you buy me some' she said, giving in to her hunger.

'Yeah?' he groaned.

Hope looked longingly up the aisle where she could glimpse boxes of Alpha-Bits, Cheerios and her all-time favourite cereal Captain Crunch - which she was only allowed to have on very special occasions. _‘Nothing but empty calories’_ she heard the echo of her dad’s voice saying in the deep recesses of her mind.

Keller became aware of a man coming towards them and, recognizing the signal they had agreed upon, he glanced up the aisle noticing it was a dead end with no exit in sight. Eager to do his business in private, he released Hope’s hand, pointing her in the direction of the large assortment of industrial sized cereal boxes.

‘All right’ he said gruffly, ‘Go look at the cereal and pick one. Just make it fast.’

Hope sighed in relief and took a few steps down the aisle, salivating as she began examining the large selection of the usually forbidden junk cereals. She could hear Keller muttering something to the other man as her eyes trailed up and down the large display, making her selection. Hanging on hooks up and down the display were a number of random items ranging from cheese graters to spatulas to shoe laces. She was about to reach for the large box of Captain Crunch when something caught her eye, just to the left of her field of vision.

'Child and pet tracker' she read under her breath.

The hermetically sealed plastic package held a small two piece device that had a cute little dinosaur logo on it. Recalling the conversation she’d had with her dad just days before, she began to study the item, doing her best to decipher some of the words on the label. She could feel ‘Uncle Matthew’ glancing her way every few seconds as he continued his conversation with the stranger who’d appeared out of nowhere.

‘Two minutes Hope’ Keller called out. ‘I’m almost done.’

She could hear her dad’s words resonating in her ears. _‘I wore the tracker all the time and Uncle Peter had a monitor that told him where I was. And that way, he could always find me.’_

Could this little contraption be the answer to her prayers? Without a second thought, she reached for the item and stashed it deep into her coat pocket as she reached to grab a box cereal with her other hand. She looked up to find Keller looming over her, grabbing for her wrist and pulling her roughly towards the main aisle.

‘Time to go’ he said.

She noticed that the painting tube he’d carried into the store was no longer slung across his back and he was holding a large envelope which he hastened to stick into his inside coat pocket.

'Let's go. We're done' he said, harshly as he ushered her towards the cash register.

Hope thought of the item she’d just lifted. She needed time to better examine it and figure out if it could be of any help to her. Spotting the washrooms nearby, she decided to take a chance.

‘Wait’ she said as she stopped, digging in her heels. ‘I have to go pee!’

'You can go pee when we get back' he replied sternly.

Hope began squirming for effect. ‘No, no, I can't wait' she whined loudly as he put her hand to her groin area, holding it there.

A woman walked past, giving Keller a cursory look of disapproval as he furtively looked around to see where the washrooms were located.

‘You are nothing but trouble, you know that’ he muttered as he pulled Hope towards the restrooms.

With a quick look around to make sure no one was coming, he nudged the door to the ladies washroom. He wasn’t about to let the kid go in there and start spouting some story about how she was being held against her will.

'Anybody in here?' he called out as he glanced around the washroom. He checked for another exit or window and once he was reassured there was no way out, he ushered her in. What could the kid possibly do in a bathroom besides pee?

‘Listen to me you little runt. You’ve got two minutes. I’ll be standing right outside the door so no funny business’ he warned in his most threatening voice.

Hope nodded and watched him step out. Without hesitation, she pulled out the tracker she had just lifted from aisle 18 and with some difficulty, managed to tear the packaging as she began examining the two parts of the apparatus in her trembling hands. Her dad had explained that Uncle Peter always knew where he was because he could track him with a monitor. This thing looked a bit like the baby monitor they had in Liam's room, she thought trying to make sense of the contraption. Her hands shook as she panicked. How did this thing work?

_'Tracker - Place on child'_ said a sticker on the back of one of the two pieces. It had a hook that you could use to hang on a bag or a backpack. _'Monitor - Keep for yourself'_ read the other piece. This thing appeared idiot-proof (and six-year-old friendly). She only had a minute left before he came back and without hesitation, Hope stuffed the first piece back in her pocket while she lay the rest of the package on the counter by the sink. She began to look around, spotting a white board on the back of the door along with a marker held up with Velcro. Suddenly, she had an idea.

Matthew Keller stood by the bathroom door growing impatient. The kid had been in there long enough. As he prepared to step back in, a woman came up, placing her hand on the door.

‘Sorry’ he said with a smarmy smile. ‘Bathroom’s out of order.’

The woman huffed and turned away, dragging her young child behind her just as Hope stepped out, looking relieved.

Keller glared at her. ‘All right, enough of your high jinks’ he said, as he led her out of the store.

WCWCWC

Todd Winston was a high school sophomore who loved sports and had an uncanny interest in politics and current affairs. He sat in the lunch room at the Wal-Mart store on Myrtle Drive in Queens and glanced up at the flat screen TV that was always tuned to CNN. He was thankful he had an afternoon a week off school so he could make some spare money with an extra shift. Of course, cleaning the washrooms and restocking the shelves was nothing glamorous but it did give him enough cash to indulge in another one of his passions, video games. He glanced up at the television screen, looking at the photograph of the little kidnapped girl, once again. She'd been on the news for days now and they still hadn't found her. Poor kid!

The timer on his phone went off, indicating his break was over and Todd made his way to the back of the store to tackle the most odious part of his jobs – checking the washrooms and wiping down the counters. People were such animals in public places. They made messes and didn't care who had to clean them. He opened the door to the women's washroom gingerly, calling out to see if anyone was inside.

Clear.

He closed the door, reaching for the marker that hung by the whiteboard in order to write down the last time the bathroom was inspected for cleanliness but it wasn't there.

When he turned around, he stopped dead in his tracks.

WCWCWC

'Neal, we've got something' Peter said as he hung up the phone.

Neal looked up, eyes wide despite the lack of sleep and constant worry.

‘I’ll explain on the way. Let’s go' said Peter as he led the way.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

It took them almost an hour to make their way to the Wal-Mart out in Queens. All they’d been told was that the police had found something that had a link with their missing person's case. Neal sat in the car, fidgeting, unable to concentrate as Peter navigated the bridge in rush hour traffic.

'And you're sure it's not a... a body' Neal said, barely keeping his wits about him.

Peter hastened to reply. ‘No! There's no body just some evidence they want us to see.’

‘What the hell could it be?’ Neal asked, his voice strangled.

‘I don’t Neal’ Peter replied with just a touch of impatience.

The police officer he’d spoken to hadn’t wanted to give any details over the phone, requesting that Peter make his way there as soon as possible. The interminable drive ended as Peter finally pulled into the parking lot of the Marigold Shopping Mall. He had barely slowed down to park when Neal opened his door and jumped out of the car, sprinting to the store entrance with Peter right on his tail.

Upon arrival, they were directed to the back of the store where they could see a police perimeter had been set up to keep customers from going past the hallway leading to the washrooms. Neal and Peter exchanged puzzled looks as they made their way to the police officer who was obviously in charge of the scene.

'Peter Burke, FBI’ Peter said, extending his hand. ‘This is my partner, Neal Caffrey. He's Hope's father.’

'Sergeant Brady, NYPD’ said the man in reply. ‘We're not sure this is anything but considering the sensitive nature of the case… well, we thought you should take a look.’

He led Peter and Neal to the ladies washroom which had been cordoned off and, walking past an officer who’d been guarding the door, he continued.

'One of the employees came in to clean at about three o'clock this afternoon and he found this' he said, pointing to the large mirror that covered the whole back wall of the room.

Neal's eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight of Hope's name scribbled on the bottom of the mirror, likely the only part she could reach with her short stature. She had written her full name and he recognized her familiar handwriting along with her tell-tale backwards E. Underneath her name, she’d scrawled the word 'park' and the number ’38'.

'It might just be someone’s idea of a practical joke’ the officer said. ‘But we didn’t want to take any chances.’

Peter glanced over at Neal who was standing there with his mouth hanging open, totally flabbergasted.

‘It’s her Peter. It's definitely her' Neal said, staring ahead, mesmerized.

'You sure?'

Neal nodded vacantly. 'The ‘E’’ he said, pointing to the writing. ‘It’s a running gag with us. She calls it her _‘trainmark'_ he said with a sad smile as he recalled the conversation he'd had with his daughter just a few days before.

Peter looked at him, puzzled.

Neal just shook his head. 'Never mind. She was here, Peter. And she's trying to tell us something – I'm just not sure what.’

Peter turned towards the officer. ‘Can we talk to the staff person who found this please?'

Before long, Neal and Peter were escorted to the back offices where they came face to face with two men, a short, stocky guy who, according to his name tag, went by the name 'Chuck' and a young, red haired kid who was seated across from the first man’s desk.

Neal and Peter remained standing, too pumped to sit as Peter turned to face the young man.

'What's your name kid?' he asked.

'Todd Winston' the guy replied meekly.

'And you're the one who found the washroom like that?' Peter asked.

'Yeah. I have to go in every hour and check the cleanliness of the washrooms' he replied nervously.

'How did you know to call the police?'

'Well, it's been on the news all week. Everybody knows that name – and when I saw it, I thought it was somebody's idea of a sick joke. But then, I got to thinking about that little girl and I thought I should at least report it before I cleaned it up.’

Peter turned to the store manager who was sat there, seemingly overwhelmed by the events that had overtaken his usually quiet suburban store.

'You have surveillance cameras in the store?' Peter asked.

The man stuttered as he spoke. ‘Y-y-yeah, of course we do. A couple of dozen at least.’

'We need to see all the footage from this afternoon. Is there somewhere we can set up?’ Peter asked, now totally focussed on the task at hand.

‘Sure, we have a TV in the staff lunch room' he said, standing to direct them.

The footage was fuzzy at times, but with some detective work, Neal and Peter were able to piece together a probable sequence of events. At around two thirty, they saw Keller arriving pulling Hope along with him. They could be seen meandering through the aisles for a few minutes, finally making their way to aisle 18 where it became more difficult to ascertain exactly what went on. The camera angle was all wrong and they saw a second man's feet enter the aisle and at some point, Hope's feet disappeared from the frame for about two minutes.

They saw Keller and Hope re-emerge with something in her hands and observed them making their way to the back of the store where the washrooms were located. Keller could be seen putting his head through the partially opened bathroom door before letting Hope in. Of course, there was no footage of what had happened in the washroom. Finally, they saw the twosome leaving the store at 2:48 after going through cash 13 with their purchase which appeared to be a box of cereal.

It was strangely reassuring to see images of Hope looking much like her old self yet it made Neal incredibly sad not to be able to reach into the monitor and grab her to bring her to safety.

He thought of Sara, waiting at home, and he picked up the phone to give her a quick update.

'Tell me it's not bad news' Sara said, her voice shaking as she answered the phone.

'No, not bad news babe’ Neal replied slightly out of breath. ‘Hope was here at the store today. We have footage of her with Keller. We think he was meeting his fence.’

Sara gasped. 'How did she look?' she finally asked.

‘Strangely normal… we can see her going down an aisle and leaving with a box of cereal. We're still going over the footage. I'll call you as soon as I know more. Honey, try not to worry – we'll piece this together and make sense of it, okay? Just hang in there' he added before hanging up.

Todd Winston was visibly shaken up. He hadn't figured on being part of anything this dramatic and he wondered if he could have done more to help the little girl. He stood in the washroom with Neal and Peter, re-enacting exactly what had happened when he'd come in at three o'clock that afternoon.

'Was there anything else you noticed when you came in?' asked Neal as he thought of the clue Hope had left for them at the first meet. 'Anything that was left behind?’

The young man bit his lower lip as he tried to recall exactly what had happened. ‘Not really… well, actually, there was some stolen merchandise on the counter but I just threw it out' he finally said.

'What kind of stolen merchandise?' Peter asked, his curiosity piqued.

'I don't know… some pet monitor or something' said Todd vaguely. 'The package had been opened and it was sitting on the counter when I came in.’

'Where did you put it?' Neal asked, feeling his heart rate soaring.

'Right here' said Todd, reaching into the garbage bin by the sinks. He shoved his hand through the litter, bypassing the many paper towels that were thrown in the receptacle and pulled out the small package as Peter and Neal took in the sight of it.

'And this was on the counter when you came in at three o'clock?' asked Peter.

'Yeah' said the young man.

'And it hadn't been there before?' Neal asked.

'No' Todd replied. ‘Like I said, I come in every hour and it wasn’t there when I did the two o’clock check.’

Neal stared at Peter, godsmacked.

‘It couldn’t be, could it?' he said, under his breath as he began to examine the item.

Peter stared back. ‘What? You think Hope left this behind?'

Neal felt his breath hitch as he considered the possibilities. ‘It’s just too much of a coincidence. Hope found my anklet on the weekend and we had a talk about my past... Anyway, she was asking questions about the logistics of it… you know, how the tracker worked, how you knew where to find me…’

'And you told her I could monitor you with your tracker?’

'Yeah. She wanted to understand… you know how curious she is.’

The men continued to study the opened package, called a 'Child and pet monitor' and one of the two pieces, the tracker was gone leaving just the monitor behind. Had Hope had the presence of mind to keep the tracker portion on her.

'Neal, I know she's smart but...' Peter began.

Neal shook his head. ‘I agree it’s pretty far fetched and if we hadn't just talked about it a few days ago, I might think this is crazy, but Peter...' Neal let his voice trail.

Photographs of the scene were taken and Peter and Neal left shortly after 7:30 to study the evidence and try to make sense of it all. Because of the sensitive nature of the discovery, Todd and the store manager were warned not to discuss particulars with anyone. The last thing they wanted was to have the details of what had been discovered in the washroom leaked to the press. If, as Neal now suspected, Hope had left this clue, a headline like this would alert Keller to what she’d been up to and put her in further danger.

The Harvard crew was still busy with the analysis of the various site photographs when Neal and Peter returned to the Caffrey home. Diana and Jones sat with Peter, Neal and Sara and began debriefing about the day's events. They studied the packaging and the monitor itself, noting it had come with instructions Hope certainly hadn’t had time to read or fully understand. And yet, it would be a stroke of luck if she’d walked away with the tracking portion of the contraption.

The bad news was that the tracking device only extended to six hundred feet – not much of a radius to work with. That meant that they would have to be in close range in order to get a signal - _if_ Hope had it on her and _if_ it had been properly activated. When correctly used, the monitor beeped when it came within six hundred feet of the tracker and it got progressively louder as the distance was bridged between the two pieces of the apparatus.

They began to discuss strategy, deciding their best bet was to take a drive around the areas that had been identified, hoping Hope's tracker had been activated. They still had a half dozen possible locations and that would take some time. Then, there was the fact that the tracker had to be activated by a tiny button on the back. Had their brilliant daughter figured that out?

‘What about the word ‘park' that was scrawled on the mirror' Jones asked as he studied the photographs taken at the scene.

'Do you suppose she's telling us she’s being kept _near_ a park?' asked Diana.

‘We need to have a look to see if any of these locations are located near a park' Peter said to the team assembled.

'And what about the number 38?' asked Sara 'That could mean anything – an address maybe?’

Neal nodded. ‘It’s possible… Whatever it is, it means something to Hope' Neal said, trying to get into his daughter's head.

Sara sighed, worry and sadness apparent in her voice. 'She didn't have much time to do all this and she must have been terrified Keller would come into the washroom and discover what she was doing.’

Neal had just moved in closer to his wife when his phone vibrated, indicating an incoming text.

He and Peter exchanged looks as Neal reached for it on the table.

_'Stay tuned for a meet tomorrow'_ it read.

WCWCWC

Hope sat, surrounded by the mess she’d made of the now familiar room she’d been locked inside for the past three days. Keller had left her to her own devices, telling her she had to deal with the mess she’d made. Hope didn't care. She felt strangely vindicated as she sat with a large bowl of Captain Crunch, smiling as the cereal took the edge off her hunger. Hopefully, somebody had gotten the message she'd left and gotten in touch with her dad and her Uncle Peter.If so, they would find her soon thanks to the trusty tracker. Uncle Peter always found her dad and now he would find her.

She took her blanket and spread it out on the floor then made her way to her coat, taking the tracker in her hand. She could see the little red light flashing, indicating it was activated and she pressed it deep into her palm as she rolled her coat up to make it into a pillow. Then she lay on the blanket, her hand clutching her lifeline and she put her head down on her make-shift pillow and went to sleep.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Neal had worked hard on convincing Peter to start driving around to the various locations even as night fell. But common sense had prevailed. Neither man had had any significant sleep over the past three days and it seemed like folly to go off half cocked when they could get a good night's sleep and start fresh in daylight. Neal had finally relented, seeing the look of relief in Sara's eyes. As worried as she'd been about their daughter, she was also concerned about him. She hadn't asked for confirmation, but she suspected he’d carried out a heist at a local museum the night before, leaving him vulnerable to all sorts of consequences, legal and otherwise.

They lay in bed, clinging to each other as snow gently fell outside their bedroom window.

'It isn't right' Sara whispered, her voice shaky.

'What?' Neal asked, his arms enfolding her.

He could feel her trembling in his arms. ‘We shouldn't be lying here in the safety of our bed when our little girl is out there somewhere fending for herself.’

'I know' he murmured back.

She sobbed quietly as he pulled her in closer. 'She's gonna be okay, Sara. She's strong.’

'We don't know that for sure. He's a crazy man – he could lose it and hurt her.’

Neal had known that was a possibility from the start but he was hopeful even a despicable thug like Matthew Keller would draw the line at hurting an innocent child.

'She's so smart' Neal marvelled, his voice low. 'Look at what she's done. She's given us the only two solid leads we've had on the case.’

Sara sniffled and smiled weakly. ‘She's clever like her daddy.’ she said.

'And brave and fearless, like her mom' Neal added.

'I guess she got the best of both of us, huh?' Sara said as she pressed a kiss into Neal's chest.

Neal’s mind wandered. ‘The night she was born…’ he said wistfully. 'She kept us waiting until she was good and ready.’

Sara chuckled through her tears. 'She still does.’

The silence of the room enveloped them as they drew ever closer, Sara pulling Neal into her.

'Thanks for staying home' she added, softly. 'I was so worried about you last night.’

'I'm not going anywhere Repo' he whispered into her hair. 'We're going to find her, I promise.’

It took a very long time but they eventually drifted off into a fitful sleep, all the while never letting go of each other.

WCWCWC

Hope woke up, freezing. She was lying on the blanket, her head on her coat with nothing to cover her up. She hadn't heard or seen Keller since the night before and she could see a little bit of daylight coming from the small opening which had become her window on the world. She wanted to go home in the worst way. She missed her parents and her baby brother and she missed her room, the comfort of her home, her friends but mostly the warmth of her parents' arms. Heck, she even missed homework. She sniffled, trying to be brave but despite her best intentions, she began to cry softly as she shivered.

Why hadn't they come for her yet? Maybe they never got the message she left in the washroom. The thought of not having been able to connect brought tears to her eyes and she reminded herself that she needed to be strong if she was going to find her way home. She looked down at the tracker in her hand and squeezed it tight.

WCWCWC

Peter and the rest of the team arrived at the Caffrey home at 6:00 a.m., ready to begin their day. Neal was busy making coffee, preparing thermoses for them to take along and Sara was taking a much needed shower before they started their day.

It was Thursday morning and Hope had been missing since Monday at noon. Luckily, she'd been spotted twice during that period, on Wednesday morning by Neal himself and later in the day on the surveillance tapes. She didn't appear to have been physically harmed although there was no way of knowing her emotional state.

The search party sat and planned their day, debating the significance of the word 'park' and the number '38' as they sipped coffee and munched on muffins Jones had brought along. The word 'park' seemed like a no brainer and they were primed to look for any sites that had a park nearby. For the time being, the number 38 remained a mystery. It could be an address but if that was the case, why wasn't the number followed by a street name?

Neal had been mulling that very riddle over and over in his mind since he'd awakened at about four in the morning. He tried to put himself in her place. At the time she'd written it, she was in the store. Had she seen that number somewhere? Was she interrupted as she was about to write down something else? He had spent the last hour on his computer, googling all things measurable or described by numbers: quantities, phone numbers, house addresses, distances, time... The list went on and on.

They had now narrowed down the possible sites to six locations and Peter began discussing strategy, suggesting they begin the day by going in teams of two to the six sites – a first drive through to detect any of the landmarks depicted in Hope’s drawing. They desperately needed to bring the possible locations down to a more manageable number. His hope was that, upon arrival at one of the sites, something would become obvious at which point they could embark on a more thorough search of the vicinity.

The other trickier element was trying to lure Keller away from the location at the appropriate time. It was too dangerous to storm a place with an armed Keller on the other side of the door. They needed to get him away from his hideout so they could be free to search the area for Hope.

Keller had texted Neal, saying he wanted to meet, but he had yet to give him a specific time and place. With any luck, they would have time to identify the hideout location before Neal met with him. They also had to pray he didn't take Hope with him to the meet.

As always, the ex-con's mind was in creative mode, looking for some unexpected twist Keller wouldn't see coming. Having worked with him, he'd gotten to know Matthew Keller, his weaknesses, his tells and Neal wanted to take full advantage of this knowledge.

'What if we went on the offensive?' he said, thinking out loud.

‘What do you mean?' Peter asked.

'What if I contact him and tell him I want to offer something to sweeten the deal?' Neal said as an idea started to form.

'I could tell him I've lifted another piece for him – play to his ego by showing him just how desperate I am to get Hope back.’

Peter and the rest of the crew listened intently as Neal spoke. They’d learned long ago not to prematurely dismiss any of Caffrey’s crazy ideas.

'Chances are he wouldn't bring Hope along in those circumstances. It would be too risky. He's already taken her out in public twice as it is. Plus, he doesn't think we have the slightest idea where he's keeping her so he wouldn't think twice about leaving her behind at the hideout. And he wouldn't be afraid of an ambush since he thinks he has the leverage of being the only one who knows where she is.’

'I don't know, Neal...' Peter began.

'Look, Peter, I _know_ this guy. He's greedy. I can't see him saying no to an offer of another piece of art he could fence, especially if he thinks I'm doing it out of desperation. That's exactly where he wants me.’

'And we lay in wait for him at the meet site?' asked Diana.

'And arrest him' said Peter.

'Once we know Hope is safe' Sara interjected.

Neal nodded.

'It just might work' Peter said. 'But, step one is finding out where she is. Let's get going on the first recon. And be careful! Keller is lurking around one of those neighbourhoods you'll be driving through and if he spots us, all bets are off.’

WCWCWC

The six sites were all over the map. Literally. Two of them were in the Bronx, one in Queens, one in the general Westchester area and two on the outskirts of the main boroughs.

They agreed to meet up at noon after the first drive through and teams of two were formed with Sara paired with Jones and Diana with Blake. Neal and Peter made up the third team with each twosome set to hit two of the locations on their short list.

Peter and Neal headed out to the two furthest locations first. Neal held the monitor in his hand as they left, just in case they got lucky right off the bat.

It took them an hour to arrive to the outermost area they had targeted. It was in the Oakwood neighbourhood of Staten Island, not too far from the water front. They drove through the area immediately spotting the CVS drugstore on the main strip. The Sears pick-up location was further up the street and was located inside a Spic and Span dry cleaners with a very small sign on the outside of the building. Neal began to search for possible vantage points Hope might have been able to spot both those signs simultaneously but he couldn't see how that was possible. The stores were on opposite sides of the street which added to the unlikelihood that this is what Hope had spied from wherever she was watching.

Add to that the fact that there wasn't a park in sight and that the monitor was silent in his sweaty palm and Neal just wasn't feeling it.

‘This isn’t it Peter' he said, shaking his head. 'It just doesn't have that feel I was getting from the drawing. I think we're looking for more of small town kind of street.’

Peter sighed. 'All right, well we can always come back if we need to' he said as he turned the car around, heading towards their next destination.

WCWCWC

Matthew Keller woke on Thursday morning wondering if his little brat had done any further damage to her living quarters. They had been squatting in an abandoned apartment building he'd cased out for three nights now and the accommodations left a lot to be desired although he had set up a decent living space for himself just outside the room where he was holding Hope.

He was getting fed up with the whole caper. He had a chunk of money now and he'd seen Neal squirm – his mission was almost complete. He hadn't yet decided how this was going to play out. He wanted to give it another twenty-four hours to get the painting out of the country and himself distanced from the whole thing. He was hoping, as a bonus, that Neal would be identified as the thief and he had a few little crumbs he was planning on leaving so the local police would come to that conclusion.

He thought he'd let Neal squirm for most of the day and call him out at nightfall one last time. Of course he wouldn't hand him back his kid just yet. He'd meet him on his own terms, keeping him guessing as to the state of his little precious little princess.

It would be so easy to finish her off while she slept, he thought, smiling spitefully. It was an awfully tempting option – one that would totally devastate Neal for the rest of his life.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

It was just past eleven o'clock when Jones and Sara made the approach on their last scheduled stop in the Bronx. It was a small-town type of neighbourhood, with older buildings and stores that had probably been standing for over sixty years. Sara was sitting in the passenger seat, eyes glued to the rolling sights as they continued towards the address they had for the drugstore. The snow had fallen overnight and everything looked bright and new, none of that dirty slush that inevitably appeared as time went on. They’d just taken a turn onto Carleton Street, a main drag with stores, some restaurants and older apartment buildings lining the street when they spotted the CVS drugstore with its large sign, off in the distance.

Jones drove by slowly as he and Sara examined the layout of the street, noting a little further up, the sign for the Sears pick-up point. It appeared to be housed in some general store with a sign on the front of the building announcing to all that customers could pick up their Sears purchases inside the building. Sara craned her neck as they drove by, noticing the quaint street lights that adorned the whole length of the street – cast iron posts just like the ones Hope had drawn.

This definitely got her attention as she continued watching for other familiar landmarks lining this part of the street. As they continued, she spotted a sign for 'Jackie's Café' which seemed to be a going concern with people coming in and out carrying coffee and assorted bags of food. She noticed the outside sitting area, closed for the winter, with chairs stacked up just as they had appeared in Hope's drawing.

'Stop' she said suddenly as Jones slowed down.

'Turn up here on - ' she stopped mid-sentence as she noticed the street sign: Park Street. ‘Oh my God! It’s a _street_ not a park’ she exclaimed.

'Jones, I think this is it’ she said, excitement growing in her voice. ‘Go back!’

Jones did as she asked, making a right turn onto Park Street and going around the block to return to where they’d started.

Sara looked fit to be tied. ‘I want to get out' she said, pointing to the post office. ‘I need to check that post over there.’

Jones sighed. The plan had been to drive by and he certainly didn’t want to draw any attention to themselves just in case.

‘I’m not sure that's a good idea, Sara’ he said. ‘You don't want to get spotted.’

But Sara Ellis wasn’t about to be denied. 'I'll be careful. Look - ' she said, taking out her sunglasses and pulling up the hood of her parka. 'I just need to have a better look at that post. Please!’

Jones took a deep breath and parked just out of sight, letting Sara out and watching as she began to slowly make her way up the street, looking like every other pedestrian taking a lunchtime stroll. She walked by the café, glancing inside as she climbed the two steps to the platform leading to the entrance to the General Store next door. Up close, she could see the little sign with the words _'Post office’._ She made her way, noticing the snow which had accumulated overnight on top of the post, freshly fallen snow that seemed to be covering something, just out of sight. She walked nonchalantly, pretending to bump into the post as she watched the snow fall to the ground, revealing a small cast iron horse, tail blowing in the wind.

She gasped and made her way back to the car, barely keeping her wits about her as she climbed in, pulling out her phone and pressing speed dial.

'We found it' she said breathlessly into her phone.

WCWCWC

Jones had insisted they meet up with the others a few miles away to discuss strategy and despite the almost irrepressible urge to start searching the surrounding buildings for Hope, Sara had reluctantly agreed it was the wise thing to do. It was killing her to know her baby girl was close by and she couldn't just reach out and just grab her.

They chose a nondescript greasy spoon called 'Bert's Diner' which was right off the main highway and Jones and Sara parked, making their way inside. Diana and Blake were next to arrive, followed closely by Neal and Peter who drove up from the other direction. Sara spotted Neal as he stepped out of the car and stood to greet him as he ran towards her.

He searched her eyes. 'Are you sure?' he asked, trying to contain his excitement.

She nodded enthusiastically and threw her arms around his neck as they embraced, both of them trembling.

Despite the encouraging signs, Peter feared the next phase of the operation. Neal and Sara would be fit to be tied and he’d need to rein them in now that they were so close to their goal. They had to tread carefully from here on in if they didn't want to put Hope in any unnecessary danger.

'Guys' he said, taking his place at the head of the table. 'I know we all want to run out and start checking every building but we have to be strategic. Keller is a dangerous criminal. If he finds out we know where they are, he could panic and hurt Hope.’

He paused for dramatic effect as Neal took in a deep breath, trying to calm his breathing which was suddenly off the charts. He grabbed Sara's hand and squeezed, hoping to centre himself and regain his composure.

Peter was in full FBI mode, his instincts kicking in as he continued to give orders. 'We cannot start flooding the area with agents and cars – not until we get Keller away from there, are we clear?' he said, his eyes on Neal.

'The first thing we need to do is see if we can get anything with the tracking monitor. We believe Hope has the other part of this thing and I think we should drive by and check it out… Neal, put your hand down’ he said, glaring at his best friend.

'But, Peter - ' Neal began, breathless.

'Forget it Neal!’ Peter said decisively. ‘It's not going to be you.’

Sara opened her mouth to speak.

'Or you' continued Peter. 'It's just a quick drive up the street. I want to see if that thing starts beeping. That'll be confirmation that we’re on the right track and that we've been reading all of Hope's signals right.’

'Secondly, we have to get busy on setting up a meeting with Keller. Neal, are you up for that?’

Neal nodded as he sighed heavily.

'Give us an hour so we can set everything up. Then I'll need you to contact him and tell him you want to meet. Tell him you have his envelope and you're ready to do anything to get your daughter back. See if he bites when you offer him another painting. Try to get him to agree to meet with you somewhere in Manhattan. If he agrees, that'll take him away for a good couple of hours. And ask him to bring Hope and see how he reacts.’

Neal nodded but was having trouble containing himself.

WCWCWC

Neal and Sara sat in front of their third cup of coffee as Blake and Peter hovered nearby, calling things in and planning for the next phase of the operation.

'You okay?' Sara asked, searching her husband’s eyes.

He nodded. ‘I will be. Once this is all over.’

Neither one of them had touched their meal despite the fact they’d been running on fumes for the past three days.

Sara was bubbling over in anticipation. ‘Neal, you should have seen it. It was so obvious we were in the right place when we got there. She got everything right. And it _was_ a horse' she said, smiling.

'The sign on the café is really high which leads me to believe she's coming at it from a very low vantage point, maybe a basement somewhere. Oh, and what she saw was Park _Street_ – there's no park in sight' Sara continued.

Neal took it all in, marvelling at his daughter's courage and cleverness, finally exhaling before giving in to his unconstrained anxiety.

'I can't stand all this waiting' he said, getting to his feet as he began to pace.

‘Honey, sit down’ Sara pleaded as she reached for his arm. 'We're almost there. Please, you can't lose it now.’

Neal nodded and took another deep gulp of air, trying to regain his self-control. They could see Jones and Diana returning following their recon and all four of them ran out to the parking lot as the junior suits exited their vehicle.

'The signal was loud and clear' said Diana, clutching the monitor in her hand.

WCWCWC

The roadside restaurant had morphed into an FBI command post as vehicles began arriving and preparing to invade the small community they had targeted. It had barely been thirty minutes and Peter had managed to assemble twelve cars and twenty-five agents to do a building to building search along the quiet street.

It would be a delicate operation. First off, they needed to make sure Keller had left the area alone, on his way to meet Neal. Otherwise they had no way of getting to Hope.

The plan required agents at both ends: in the Bronx, to carry out the search for Hope and a second team to be lying in wait for Keller when he eventually asked to meet with Neal.

Peter could see the tension in his partner’s face and body language, hoping Neal had what it took to see this through without falling victim to his emotions which he could see were ready to spill over at any moment.

Neal's phone rang as they gathered once more inside the restaurant and the two men exchanged nervous glances.

'Is it too early?' Neal asked.

'Try to buy me an extra thirty minutes to set up' Peter said as he followed Neal outside to take the call.

'Keller' Neal said into his phone as he struggled to keep himself in check.

'Do you have my package?' asked the kidnaper without any preliminaries.

'Yes' Neal replied.

'I want to meet' said the thug.

'Keller, I want my daughter back' Neal said, his voice rough.

'Hey Caffrey, take it easy, all in good time.’

'I'll do anything you want' said Neal, desperation in his voice. 'I lifted a Renoir from the exhibit at the Clarkson Gallery last night. It's yours, just let my little girl come home.’

Keller seemed beyond thrilled. Neal was totally losing it and he knew that when Caffrey let his emotions cloud his judgement, he became reckless and impulsive.

'A Renoir! Very impressive' Keller said as he took in this new information. 'Bring it to the meet. Let’s make it the lobby of your office building in an hour' he said, greediness rising within him.

'I want to see Hope' said Neal, praying he would refuse to bring her.

'Not today, Caffrey. You bring me that Renoir and we'll see what we can do. An hour' Keller repeated.

'I need a little more time' Neal pleaded as he exchanged looks with Peter.

Keller hesitated. ‘Fine’ he said before hanging up. ‘See you in ninety minutes. Don't be late!’

'If he's at his hideout, he'll need to leave in about half an hour if he wants to make it to Manhattan in time’ Peter said. ‘That gives us just enough time to get everyone mobilized and ready to move.’

He could see Neal was on the verge of falling apart. 'You did good buddy’ he added as he clasped his shoulder.

Peter turned towards the army of agents that was beginning to assemble. 'Jones, I need a couple of unmarked cars in the area right now. See if you can spot Keller leaving for his meet.’

WCWCWC

Hope had spent most of the day, drawing and reading, in between bouts of crying. Even the half eaten box of Captain Crunch which lay beside her no longer held any appeal. She had not seen her kidnapper all day and as time wore on, she was becoming despondent, afraid she would never be found.

The book he’d left for her was a Hardy Boys mystery she’d already read. She sat on her blanket and began to read out loud, pausing every once in a while to think of her mom and dad, her little brother, her friend Olivia and the many wonderful things in her life.

And she would start crying all over again.

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Keller paced the small space he’d been calling home for the past few days, rubbing his hands in glee. He’d had no idea he could push Caffrey this far. His ex-partner was actually ready to hand over another invaluable painting all so he could see his precious daughter. This was definitely not the Caffrey he’d known all those years ago.

He’d have to be smart about this, though. He’d chosen Neal's office building for the meet for a couple of reasons: he needed a place that was far enough from his hideout to avoid detection, he wanted to be in a public place so Neal wouldn't try anything and finally he just wanted to push Neal's buttons by creating this lovely memory for Caffrey to have every time he walked into work.

He’d debated ad nauseum the pros and cons of dragging the kid along to the meet. She was his insurance policy so having her along was like walking around with a shield, insulating him from capture. But she was also a wildcard and he would not put it past her to try something, especially once she got a glimpse of her dad. And taking her out into the world was risky – he'd been lucky enough to avoid detection twice but he didn't think he should chance it a third time. He mulled it over once again.

He glanced at the small bottle of chloroform which lay on the table by the old armchair. That was probably best, knock her out while he was gone to keep her from causing any trouble.

He couldn't wait to be rid of this kid. She was turning out to be just as annoying as her dad.

WCWCWC

Peter had put Jones in charge of the operation back in the Bronx, starting with a couple of unmarked cars in strategic locations to see if they could spot Keller leaving for his meeting with Neal. Better yet, they were hoping to see from which building he emerged and most importantly, if he was alone. Once he was safely out of sight, they could begin 'Operation Hopeful' as the case had been dubbed.

Diana was to coordinate activities at the other end, in downtown Manhattan, specifically in the lobby of the Finch and Johns building. Her job was to make sure everyone was in position to arrest Keller as soon as they got word that Hope had been found. The lady suit had been dispatched along with a dozen or so agents who were setting up in strategic spots near the lobby. The local authorities were providing backup and the FBI had agents all over the area. Her team included Blake who was set to play a major role in the sting.

Neal and Sara were being kept well away from things until such time as the operation began. It was unwise to have either one of them anywhere near where they could be spotted by Keller.

WCWCWC

Hope looked up as she heard the key turn in the lock once more. She wiped her face and quickly hid her tracker in her coat pocket as she resigned herself to another face to face with the monster she was learning to despise. He came in, hand behind his back as he started to make his way towards her and she recoiled, knowing full well this did not bode well. She barely realized what was happening before it was too late.

WCWCWC

'We have eyes on Keller' said the voice coming from Jones' walkie talkie. ‘He’s walking north on Carleton and he's alone.’

Jones was parked on the side street by Jackie's Café and he looked up, spotting the thug as he turned the corner and appeared on the main drag, walking at a quick pace.

‘Got him’ he replied.

He watched Keller flag down a cab as the tracking monitor on the seat next to him kept droning softly. The agent picked up his phone to report the development to Peter, who was lying in wait at Bert's Diner along with the rest of the fleet, waiting for word before they could descend on the small town street.

Peter had informed the local police of the operation and had gotten reassurance that the FBI would be given free reign and any support they might need in recovering the missing girl.

‘Peter…’ Jones said into his phone. ‘He just got into a cab and took off going North.’

‘All right, we'll be there in five minutes’ Peter replied. ‘Assemble the men who are already on site and start deploying people. Follow the plan we laid out.’

He turned towards Neal and Sara and nodded, a small gesture but one that held so much meaning and they were up in a flash, following Peter as he made his way out to the car.

WCWCWC

Matthew Keller got out of the cab a block away from the offices of Finch and Johns and made his way to the lobby. He had a spring in his step. He was about to get his hands on another valuable piece of art and he was going to enjoy watching Neal squirm once more. He was holding all the cards and he walked in with confidence as he spotted Neal sitting on a bench in the lobby, his back to him with his signature fedora and a painting tube across his back. Keller smiled devilishly.

WCWCWC

Neal and Sara drove to Carleton Street in the back of Peter's SUV. The short drive seemed to take forever as they both stared out of the car windows, breathing in and out in harmony. They were minutes away from finding their little girl and they prayed that when they finally found her, she would be unharmed.

Jones was waiting in front of the little café when Peter drove up, minutes later. He was followed by six other vehicles, each of them with a pair of agents ready to start going door to door. Peter was determined to have his goddaughter back in her parents' arms by the end of the day and nothing was going to stand in his way.

‘Here Caffrey' said Jones, handing him the monitor which continued to beep, the most beautiful sound Neal had ever heard.

'What do we have so far?' asked Peter as Jones began to give him the lo down on which of the buildings had been searched. Many of the buildings were small businesses that had apartments on the second floor. There were also two apartment buildings and one of the two appeared to be abandoned.

Neal's instincts were screaming to start there and he took Sara's hand as he began to walk in that direction, followed closely by Peter. The building hadn't been empty long; it still had that lived in look with names appearing on the directory and although the lobby was bereft of any furniture, it still looked reasonably clean. It had four floors which looked to each house six to eight apartments. The monitor in Neal's hand kept beeping and seemed to have increased in intensity since they’d entered the building although Neal couldn’t help but wonder if it was just his imagination.

Peter signalled four of this team to follow them in and he began to deploy them in methodical fashion as was always his way, making certain to search every inch of the building. Like Neal, he had a feeling about this place and he began to try to orient himself in relation to the street. If Hope was being held in a room that could see out onto Carleton Street, she had to be where there was a window facing south.

He began barking orders as he directed his men to that side of the building. Neal remembered Sara's comment about the café sign and her theory that Hope had to be watching from a low vantage point.

'I want to start in the basement' he called out to Peter as he searched for the stairwell leading down. There was an elevator, which was still in working condition but it did not go down to the basement so they began to search the lobby for the staircase to take them to the lower floor.

The monitor continued at a good, steady pace not unlike a heartbeat pointing the way as he took the first few steps down, followed by Sara and Peter.

The layout of the basement was such that there was a laundry room to the right immediately when you came off the stairs. There seemed to be fewer apartments on this floor due to the space occupied by the large room as well as an electrical room which was right across the hall. They could see four other doors and all three of them began calling Hope's name, loudly and repeatedly.

If she was within earshot, she would be hearing them as they called out at full volume, stopping every few seconds to see if an answer could be heard. All four doors were locked but that wasn't going to hold them back.

Peter kicked the door to the first apartment and the sheer adrenaline rush he was feeling brought down the door in one swift kick. The apartment had a large living area where a few boxes remained as well as some garbage bags. An old couch had been left behind and sat in the middle of the room. Further inspection yielded two other rooms, both empty and both looking out onto Carleton Street.

The beeping continued, seemingly louder and more insistent than ever.

They moved on to the apartment next door, Neal leading the group as he took off like a bat out of hell. Peter had radioed in for two more men to join them in the basement and had a team of paramedics standing by. He had a feeling, confirmed by the rapid beep of the monitor, that they were oh so close and he was beginning to wonder why Hope wasn’t responding to their continuous shouts.

Neal was the first to arrive at the door of Apartment 3 and gave a convincing and authoritative kick as the lock began to budge; a second jolt was necessary to finish the job and as he glanced inside, he knew this was it.

'Peter!' he shouted to his partner who was following close behind.

Sara followed Peter, taking in the scene. A ratty old armchair sat in the middle of the room. There was a cooler with food right by the chair, a transistor radio and a heater which was plugged into a nearby outlet. A bed was set up in the corner of the room.

'Hope! Hope!' Sara called out in desperation, becoming increasingly alarmed that her daughter was not answering. She had to be close by.

Neal threw the monitor aside, convinced Hope was behind one of the two closed doors leading off the main room.

Peter and Neal each took a door with agents following and kicking them down without hesitation while Sara stared at both doors in horror, absolutely terrified of what they would find there.

'Hope!' shouted Neal as he spotted the child’s frail form lying on the floor of the small room. She was surrounded by an absolute mess, the remnants of a mattress which had been totally ripped apart, some broken furniture and a small blanket where she lay partially covered, her winter coat draped across her body.

He ran to his daughter's side with Sara close behind and they both fell to the ground by her, Neal checking her vital signs while Peter screamed orders into his walkie-talkie.

Sara looked on in horror, unable to breathe, let alone move as Neal cradled their daughter in his arms, checking her pulse and seeing if there were any obvious signs of trauma.

'Neal, look' Peter said as he lifted a piece of cloth which had been discarded on the floor. The scent of chloroform wafted in the air, confirming what they both suspected.

'Hope! Hope! Look at me! Baby, look at me' Neal was saying his voice shrill as he cradled his daughter in his arms.

The movement and the sound of his familiar voice caused Hope to open her eyes and blink.

'Daddy, you came' she said in a whisper before her eyes closed once more.

WCWCWC

'Copy that' Diana said into her phone as she signalled the agents who were flooding the lobby of the downtown Manhattan building.

Keller stood directly behind the man with the hat, goading him. 'So Caffrey, let's see this little treasure of yours’ he said.

The man turned, removing his hat and gave him a rueful smile as Keller looked on, bewildered.

'You're under arrest, Keller' said Agent Blake as the surrounding agents made their presence know, flooding the lobby and grabbing the man.

Keller’s eyes grew in surprise. 'You'll never find that little girl!' he said in one last attempt at controlling the situation.

‘Too late Keller. She’s already safely in her parents' arms' Diana said as she proceeded to cuff him.

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

The emergency room of Calvary Hospital in the Bronx was relatively quiet when the ambulance carrying Hope Ellis-Caffrey pulled up. She had slowly begun to regain consciousness to the relief of both her parents who were riding along in the ambulance beside her. She lay staring at them both, her eyes going back and forth from one to the other as she smiled and blinked, unable to believe she was finally free of the clutches of her abductor.

Sara and Neal, on the other hand, had their eyes riveted on their daughter, making sure she didn’t disappear as suddenly as she had before.

‘Are you cold?’ Sara asked as Hope shook her head.

‘You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?’ Neal chimed in.

Hope tried to sit up, held back by the restraints that kept her properly secured to the stretcher.

‘We’re almost there honey’ Neal said as he stroked her hair.

She was rolled into the ER followed by her Uncle Peter, Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Mozzie who all paraded in one after the other with a huge look of relief on their faces.

The nurse at triage asked everyone to stay back while they took her in for a thorough examination but there was no way on God's green earth Neal and Sara were letting their daughter out of their sight. A brief explanation of the situation was enough to give them both the green light to follow their little girl to the back of the emergency room.

The threesome was taken to a small examination room which barely had enough room for the stretcher and one chair but that was no deterrent as they all squeezed in, Neal still holding Hope's hand.

'Are you in any pain, sweet pea' he asked for the umpteenth time.

‘No Daddy' she said weakly. ‘I’m just dizzy.’

'That's the drug he gave you. You'll feel better soon' said Sara, trying her best to sound reassuring.

'Did he hurt you?' Neal asked again.

She shook her head. 'No, he was just really mean.’

Neal let out a nervous laugh at this as he ran his hand through her hair. She looked so tiny on the large stretcher and he thought she might have lost a bit of weight although he couldn't be sure.

'Do you have any idea how proud Mommy and I are of you?' he said, tears filling his eyes.

Hope looked up at him, her wide blue eyes fixed on his.

'You are such a brave girl' Sara added, kissing her forehead.

The door to the small cubicle opened and a young woman entered, dressed in regular clothing with a stethoscope dangling from her neck.

'Hi, I'm Dr. Hopkins' she said. 'This must be Hope.’

Neal and Sara moved away as best they could in order to give the doctor better access to their daughter.

'How are you feeling young lady?' the doctor asked gently.

'Fine, but my head hurts' said Hope, her voice raw.

The doctor smiled. ‘Can you sit up for me sweetie?’ she asked. ‘I'm going to listen to your heart and lungs.’

Hope struggled to sit as Neal held her up and the doctor proceeded to take her pulse rate and listen to her lungs.

'We think she was drugged with chloroform' Neal explained. 'There was a rag nearby.’

He took out the evidence bag which contained the rag and handed it over to the doctor.

'We'll make sure this gets properly analysed’ the woman said, taking it from his hand.

The doctor continued with a cursory examination of Hope’s blood pressure, a check of her eyes, ears, throat and a full going over of her body from head to toe in case there were any hidden injuries.

‘Is that your stomach I hear?' she asked as she heard a gurgle.

Hope nodded again. 'I'm hungry' she said to everyone's relief.

'Well, I think we can help with that' the doctor said as she prepared to leave the room. 'How about some jello?’

'Do you have red jello?' Hope asked, eliciting a choked laugh from her parents.

'I'm sure we do' the woman said with a chuckle.

Hope looked up at her mom, arms outstretched. 'Can I go home now?' she asked.

'As soon as the doctor says' answered Sara, taking her in her arms.

A look of concern came over Hope’s face as she pulled away and looked at her dad. ‘I know I'm not supposed to…’ she confessed. ‘But I ate a whole bunch of Captain Crunch.’

Neal sighed in relief, bringing his lips to rest on her forehead. ‘Just this once, that’s perfectly fine’ he said.

WCWCWC

'Are you sure you're going to be okay in here? It's not often you get the chance to sleep in our bed' Sara said as they tucked Hope in for the night.

'No, I'm fine' she said quietly as she cradled her favourite stuffed animal.

They had finally made it home and Hope had been reunited with everyone she loved at a celebratory dinner where, as the guest of honour, she got to choose the menu: pizza. Olivia had come over as had her grandma June, her uncle Mozzie and of course her godparents, Uncle Peter and Aunt Elizabeth. Hope sat amongst all those she loved, smiling and looking relieved albeit, very tired.

‘All right then' said Neal. 'If you need anything, we're right next door, okay?’

Hope nodded. She was exhausted from her ordeal and after a nice hot meal and a warm bath, she was ready to climb into her favourite pj’s and slide under the warm blankets.

'Hope, when you left your message at the store, you wrote the number 38. What did that number mean?' Neal asked, the question still unresolved.

'You're kidding?' she answered, not believing that her brilliant clue hadn't been deciphered.

'You're always telling me how important math is so I figured out that it took us thirty-eight minutes to drive from that place to the shopping centre' she explained as if it were a no-brainer.

'Ah, that's what it was!' said Sara. 'That was a brilliant clue, honey. We just couldn't figure it out.’

Hope rolled her eyes at their perceived ineptitude and shrugged, letting herself melt into the warm bed.

'Good night, sweetheart' said Sara, kissing her forehead.

'Sleep tight, sweet pea' Neal added as he gently tugged at her nose, eliciting a small, sleepy smile from his little girl.

Whereas the house had been full just a few hours ago, it was now just the four of them, finally reunited in the cocoon they called home.

Neal and Sara tidied up and prepared for an early night, considering they’d had very little sleep since early in the week. They checked on Liam, who was sleeping soundly and took one last glance into Hope's room before making their way to their own room and falling into bed, exhausted.

It was just past midnight when Neal heard quiet footsteps running down the hall towards their room.

'Daddy?' said Hope breathlessly.

'Hey, what's the matter?' he asked, sitting up and spying Hope's silhouette in the doorway to their bedroom.

'Can I change my mind and come into your bed?' she asked, making her way to his side of the bed and putting out her small arms for him to pick her up.

'Of course you can' he said, the sound of his voice waking Sara.

'Hey, you want to come in with us?' she asked as Neal moved over, making room in the centre of the bed which was still warm from where his body had been pressed up against hers.

Hope nodded, grabbing her mom's hand and letting Neal tuck her in, the comforter all the way up to her nose.

'Is that better?' he asked, his arm snugly around her.

'Much better' she replied, clutching her mom's hand.

Neal and Sara exchanged worried glances in the dark. It would take time for Hope to recover from her ordeal, to believe again that most people in life were trustworthy, that the world was full of kind and helpful people. Hopefully, she would return to being the fun loving, happy child they’d always known but they knew it would take time and plenty of reassurance to bring her back to the way she’d been just days before.

They were roused at six thirty by the sound of Liam who was singing at the top of his lungs in his crib.

'I'll get him' said Hope, sounding excited.

Neal and Sara lay back as she ran out across the hall towards her little brother's room, struggling to help him out of his crib. They could hear her talking to him as he gurgled at the sight of his big sister.

'Do you have a dry diaper, Liam?' she was saying in her big sister voice.

'Good boy, do you want to go potty?' she asked, taking his hand.

'Potty!' he replied with a giggle.

Neal and Sara suppressed a laugh as they heard the exchange, thrilled to have their family whole once again.

WCWCWC

'So, what do you want to do today?' Neal asked as he moved around the kitchen getting breakfast organized for the family. ‘Anything you want.’

'Can we go downstairs and paint?' Hope asked.

‘Of course we can' said Neal as he handed Liam a sippy cup of apple juice.

Hope’s eyes grew wide. ‘Daddy…’ she said, pushing her luck. ‘Can I have some Captain Crunch for breakfast?'

Neal stared back, eyebrow raised. 'That's just empty calories, Hope. Eat your granola.’

La fin


End file.
